Not being there

This sucks. This sucks. This sucks. I fucking hate it.
I hate not being able to be there for you.
I hate that I can't fly up for the funeral.
I hate that I can't hug you and hold you and tell you everything will be ok.
I can't help.
I can't cry with you.
I can only cry for you and that feels wrong too.
My soul is crying to be by your side instead of a 26 hour drive away.
I want to be there.
I want to soothe and comfort and help you through the pain and the cold business of the arrangements of death.
I want to be able to lay flowers on her grave and tell her bones that she was so loved.
I want to hold your family and remind you of all the true cliches.
Time heals. She'll always be with you. You'll see her on the other side.
This hurts. This metal ball rising up my throat. This gnawing sickness in my belly.
I can't do anything.
I can't be there for you.
I hate this.
I want to scream and cry and punch something.
And this is barely a fraction of what pain you are in.
Cancer isn't the death sentence it used to be.
I said that to you the last time we spoke.
I was wrong.
I am so sorry.
I want to make it all okay.
But I can't.
I can't do anything from here but cry and pray.