Bryan had this experience when we started having babies. Nathan was born, and he wondered when things would get back to normal. Just as we started reaching that point, Megan came along, and then Evan. After baby number three, he said he pretty much just surrendered to the new normal. (That was also when he started changing diapers. He realized he would never get to spend time with me if I did all of the baby care.)
Now, our current upheaval has a much darker cause, of course, but the necessity of finding the new normal is still there. Being widowed with seven children is a unique experience. Although having children is of course a comfort, it does eliminate the "cash in the life insurance and start training to climb Mt. Everest" option for dealing with grief. Instead, we're left with doing all of our ordinary things, but with hearts that feel anything but "ordinary." The things we've always done cause pain because he's gone: dinner in the evening, Saturday morning breakfast, being with friends, going to church, watching Fox News. (Who knew Brett Baier could be such a tear-jerker?)
As time passes- it's been two months- the pain lessens. It begins to seem less strange, though perhaps no less sad, to do these things without him.
The Apostle Peter wrote to the believers,
"May the God of all grace,
who called us to His eternal glory by Christ Jesus,
after you have suffered a while,
perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you."
(1 Peter 5:10)
It's this "settling" that I think we're heading toward. We'll still miss him- we'll always miss him- but we'll begin to feel settled. Somehow, on the other side of suffering, will be a place where we stop feeling adrift, and the Lord will give us the blessing of being settled.