I lost my dad earlier this week

My dad suffered from pompe disease. On Tuesday December 20th as me and his caregiver and physical therapist tried to move him from his wheelchair to his bed he suffered a heart attack, he was in my arms until the paramedics came. It was hard for me because earlier that day it was like any other day, I made him a big pancake breakfast, we watched Beatles videos on the tv and we talked about what we are going to do for Christmas. He and my mom had been fighting and she left to get some space so she could clear her head and come back on Christmas Eve, I volunteered to stay with dad because he always told me I was better at taking care of him than anyone else. He had been suffering for so long, not being able to eat and not being able to go to the bathroom on his own and not being able to move without help. The last conversation I had with him was that every day we are going to practice moving your back, on the day he passed we had gotten a machine to help him (he only practiced, he didn’t use it). I didn’t think I would have to deal with something like this at the age of 25, I thought I would have been in my forties when I lost my dad. Now all I have left is my mom and I feel like we have grown closer over the last couple of days. I can only hope my dad is up in heaven somewhere with my Mimi and granddaddy where he is walking and jumping for joy that he isn’t suffering anymore. I hear stories about people losing their parents all the time and now that I have experienced it, how in the fuck do people get over something like this? One hand I’m glad me and my mom don’t have to constantly worry about my dad medical shit anymore (doctors, medication, wheelchair accessibility) but on the other hand I wish I could have told him to not move out of that chair. Everyone, my mom included has told me he isn’t suffering anymore and that it would have happened eventually. They told me I was chosen my god to see my dad in my last moments and I don’t know how I feel about that. Now I’m scared to close my eyes cause I can still see his face when he wasn’t there anymore and the sound of that stupid suction machine going and the feeling was of dread I got when I was told he was gone. How does someone get over something like this? How?