I've been doing this work out of necessity for fifteen years.
My first friend died my senior year of college. Two months later, a girl I'd dated in high school. Within four months I had buried three people, all in ways no one saw coming.
At the reception for my friend Tyler, I stood in a room full of adults and realized something I've never been able to un-see: none of them knew how to do this either. They were guessing. If they couldn't metabolize his death, how was any of us supposed to?
Years went by. Person after person. I started pulling back from new friendships because all I could see was the loss on the other end. I prayed for a calendar year without a funeral. I'm still waiting, fifteen years later.
Then I watched my father die of cancer. I was in medical training, I knew the statistics, I knew the timer had started. So I did the one thing I could: I sat with him and asked the questions no one else would. He left this life as prepared as a person can be.
That's the work. That's all it is. Asking the questions no one else will ask, and sitting with someone while they find the answer.