The prospect of pain, suffering and death was spread thinly over weeks, months, was it even years?
The unbearable knowledge that life was slowly being ebbed away, by each waxing moon. But life, it seems, cannot be spread so thinly as greif and eventually it can no longer exist.
So here we are, with a gaping hole in our remaining lives, that can be temporarily stuffed with memories, but ultimately, never filled.
The wait is over, and a chapter is closed.