Sadness is that way, I think. Grief. You're grieving what could have been, and what was, you know? When our dad was murdered, and then when our mom died it was like--just this big giant wave of sadness and confusion and anger and missing. And I still feel that way sometimes, years later. But I think it's like, you think about getting to the next minute, and then the next hour, and then the next day, and then over time, you can start breathing again. Which isn't to say that you won't miss them or anything--you will. You will always miss them, but sometime you'll be able to tell Kipp stories or show pictures and it won't feel as bitter, it'll feel sweeter.
It feels like too much until it isn't too much, it's just enough for you to carry.