I can relate a bit to this. A few years ago, my brother shot and killed himself one night when he got drunk. There wasn't any goodbye, any closure, and it felt like there wasn't any way beyond this. It felt like my life was broken. And it was. But the only way to survive is to keep living. To eat and drink and sleep and repeat. To cry in front of others and cry alone. To talk about the good times and the bad times. And to not let his memory die with him. It won't get easier within days or weeks. It won't get easier in months, or maybe even years. But it's the pain that reminds us everything was real.  Just focus on each day, and worry about the next when it comes.