Zig Ziglar writes:

The longest 24 hours of my life were those after my daughter's death. When making the funeral arrangements with her husband and his parents, I had to listen to a salesman who was an incessant talker and who told us 30 times he wasn't a salesman. Twice while we were making decisions about her casket and burial, I had to leave the room; I simply couldn't handle him.

The night before I had hallucinated. Half asleep, half awake, I kept thinking my daughter was wondering when her daddy was going to come get her. The next morning I took a walk and was praying and crying the whole way. When I returned, the Lord spoke in such a distinct way: "She's fine. She's with me. And you're going to be fine, too. I'm all you need. You just keep walking. Keep talking. Keep praying. Keep crying."