Thursday night my father died.  We were so stunned and exhausted that we came home, had a drink and went to bed.  It took us a long time to go to sleep.  I know this because I slept with my mom that night.  Neither one of us wanted to sleep by ourselves.

Friday we woke up, and the sun was still shining, and my father was still dead.  I made pea soup, called my husband, researched how to submit obituaries and managed not to die of sadness.

Saturday I woke up, and the sun was still shining, and my father was still dead.   It helped to know that my husband was coming in Saturday night.  My brother’s girlfriend is amazing.  She was (and is) so helpful.  She was at the hospital all afternoon on Thursday, brought sandwiches, and helped advocate for my father.  She drove down to Boston and picked up my husband from the Boston airport at 11:30 PM and then drove 2 hours north to our home.

I have felt so supported by my family and friends, people sending food and calling.  Many of my friends emailed me such wonderful things.  One friend tried to move heaven and earth to get food and flowers delivered to my remote home.  Another went through my closet finding clothes I asked to be sent to the States with Bülent.    The last few days have been extremely difficult, but with the help of friends and family it has been, maybe not less painful, but a more supported journey.