My mother died on March 12th. Though it did not seem so at the time, she passed relatively quickly. My brother flew in that night and helped us arrange for the burial. The funeral took place on the following Friday after the Monday on which she died. Though my father was still very frail, he attended the funeral as did all of the children and their spouses and the grandchildren and one daughter-in-law. Though there was sadness at losing Mom, there was also a sense of relief. Especially at the end, Mom was suffering so that it seemed almost a blessing when she finally passed. It took my dad most of the week to have some closure as the calls drifted in and the cards, flowers and donations kept coming. What a tribute to a couple in their nineties that so many people would send their sympathies.
Two weeks have passed since the funeral and we are all trying to return to some form of normality. My father, still in Hospice and housed in assisted living, is on oxygen, confined to a wheelchair, and totally reliant on my husband and I for his entertainment and supervision. At 96, he's entitled to just sitting, but it's a huge burden on me and one that I'm still trying to deal with.