Death.

I'm no stranger to Death. I'd say he knows me by name.
We've shaken hands and agreed that he is necessary- and that I still don't like him. He seems to accept it.
That only sounds insane to you if you don't know my life- if you do, sounds perfectly reasonable. He is there and he has a name and we need him- but we're a little like kids that hate vegetables. You can fight it all you want, but someday you'll have to accept some facts.
He's been around a lot lately- and physical death is not his only job; don't underestimate him. That's a mistake.
Everything ends. As you are born, you will die. As it is with All That Is. And I mean ALL. Relationships, the flowers that pretty up your table, and the tiny spider that hangs out in your window.
It's all gotta go sometime.
And so do you. And some you love will go before you do.
It's really alright. I swear on all I consider Holy, that it really is alright.

Do your grieving, be sad about the loss of future events. Wish things could have been different. However you grieve is however you do it, and don't ever let anyone tell you you're wrong for it. Fuck them if they dare do that. But know all the while that the dead are fine- where they should be- and the one you grieve for is you.
That, in a nutshell, is what he told me.
He wasn't so nice about it, but then, nice isn't in his job description.