I've have the curse/blessing of experiencing lots of losses throughout life, though I am lucky to still have my parents, whom I love. Some of my grad school friends were shocked at the number of funerals/memorials I had been to by the time I was in my 20's.

I was thinking hard about your question, and found that the words I don't relate to in it are "too soon". And I think I can see a parallel there with how I often feel about others who are less experienced with loss, or just having a really hard time with it.

I rarely think of someone as having gone "too soon". For sure, I grieve the loss of someone who was very young, or had small children, or was a child himself (truly horrible), probably more than someone who lived to 90. As Venus said, it's the loss of possibility that is so crushing there. But somehow, "soonness" isn't a part of it for me.

I think having to lose a lot of people I love at almost regular intervals starting as a child, it's really a routine part of life to me. People die. People die expectedly and unexpectedly. People leave other people behind. It happens, and the question of "when" seems almost... like it's missing the point. "When" could be anytime. I could die today. Don't know. Hope not.

I often find myself getting frustrated with people who do not live as if anyone they love could die at any time. As if there will always be time to say "I love you" later. As if there will always be time to say "I forgive you" later. Or "thank you". Or "I missed you". Or "I'm sorry". Not that these things should be said insincerely, but that when they are meant and withheld, it's like a scar on the emotional universe that becomes permanent when the opportunity to say them is taken away.

When my grandmother was dying, my family and I were with her in the hospital for the majority of the first day where it was clear she was going soon, and then we went home to sleep (except for my dad). My brother asked me why we weren't staying -- shouldn't we be there until the end? I asked him if he had said everything to her that he wanted to say. He said no. I told him to get in the car and go back to the hospital, and not hold anything back. Because she was dying, and sitting by her would not make up for anything left unsaid. And even if we were there, she could very well pass while he was taking a bathroom break.

This is what your question makes me think about, in my own life. It makes me wonder why you think it's "too soon", and what you envision getting out of having more time. Not that we don't all want more time with our loved ones. But we also owe it to them to let them go, and live our own lives as they are, not as they could have been.