Loss for words

I'm still in the denial phase, I guess.
The police came to my door last night and told me that my brother-in-law had been killed.
The one who's been living at my house for the past year.
I haven't slept much, nor stopped crying much, but as always I felt the need to put something into words.
I keep seeing his smiling face and everytime I do, I shake my head a little--
cuz it's NOT true.
It can't be, it shouldn't be.
I will not be around much for a few days, obviously.
I am ok.
But he shouldn't be gone. He just shouldn't.
He was here.
I heard him come in and thought fleetingly of going upstairs to chit-chat a bit;
my usual thought.
But, I didn't.
No, I won't beat myself up with the "what if"s, but jesus.
Another fantastic "what if" concerns the police themselves.
He had been riding his bullet bike fast, up and down our small street and there had been complaints called in by a neighbor or neighbors (we're assuming).
They were on the scene one minute from when they were dispatched, so they were obviously already on their way.
So...what if they had made it there sooner?
He would have had a ticket, possibly an arrest for mouthing off or something stupid like that.
No helmet.
There are 5 brothers where there were 6.
There are people who don't know yet; friends of his that we don't know how to contact without his cell phone, which is at th Medical Examiner's office with him.
So we all sat up last night planning things and his poor mother is such a Mormon and he was just not, but we are all making sure he gets his wishes.
She wants to cut his hair.
We will not let that happen, and she will as always, refuse to accept that her wishes are not the only ones in existence.
She is doing well, though.

If I don't believe it, will it be untrue?
yeah. I know it won't.