Story time that may be relevant:
While my late first wife was still a semi-healthy cancer patient in active treatment she and I participated in a peer support program to pair experienced patient / care-giver couples with newly diagnosed patient / care-giver couples.
We outlived a bunch of the couples we counselled / befriended / supported over those years. My wife was “blessed” with a very slow but inexorable cancer and a fierce constitution. Others lacked one or both of those advantages. What we did was valuable, rewarding, and also very painful at times.
In one of the couples ~10 years older than us the woman had started with breast cancer like my wife had but it had aggressively gotten into her brain, which is not uncommon. She went from a vigorous attractive healthy ~72yo to a badly mentally handicapped shrunken cadaverous mess in 18 months flat and died at about 24 months from initial symptoms / diagnosis. We were there with them almost from the start of this awful ride. The ~2 year older husband was naturally kind of an Eeyore character. He was utterly devoted to her care 24/7.
After his wife died I stayed close to him for the following months, during which time my own wife started her final spiral. Roughly 18 months after his wife died, mine did too. We stayed in close touch as I worked through my own challenges.
At that time, roughly 18 months after his wife’s death, her place setting was still at what was now his dinner table. Every bit of her clothes were exactly where they had been. Her car was still in the garage undriven. He was out in the world trying to meet & date, but could not bring himself to change a thing of hers. Unsurprisingly, he was having little success meeting women who liked him with his head & heart where it was: totally stuck in his late wife’s healthy past.
About 6 months after my wife died so ~24 months post-his, he stopped returning my calls, texts, and emails. I checked the newspapers & SSA for evidence he had died or killed himself. Nothing. But last we had met, nothing had changed at his house or in his mind from the week she had died. Nothing.
My wife and I met them to help show them how to live with cancer and how to find a life in the remaining normal space however small it may become. Instead they showed us how to die and recover. Or more accurately how not to die and how not to recover. I learned a lot from this experience at a time I needed to learn it.
Karma tastes very strange sometimes.
As it applies to the OP and “G”, some people have a very hard time letting go of the mission of caregiving, even when the object of that caregiving is now dead. Others simply cannot give up the mind-share their late loved ones occupied, and have fantasy conversations with them day and night day after day after day after …
Others simply cannot bear to perform the logistics of closing out a life because there is no respectful-enough way to dispose of those things. It’s not a worn-out recliner or a sticky piece of aged Tupperware. It is Dad’s recliner or Mom’s Tupperware or Wife’s pretty dress or whatever.
It’s easy to get “stuck” reliving the day after the death every day. Like the movie Groundhog Day, but not nearly as funny. IME / IMO a loner or depressive personality seems more prone to stuckness. My poor friend was badly, badly stuck. Sounds like “G” has it as bad or worse.