The sword still piercing my heart

The reason we are in my hometown for these past few days is that we still had to make arrangements and now proceed with Maeve's burial. Because I wanted an autopsy to help us understand medically what happened, her body was not available at the time of the funeral. Oh yeah, the autopsy showed nothing.
So we bury her on Saturday. I've had to choose an urn, approve her burial between my grandparents (instead of on top of just my grandmother), the time......Every step of this process has involved some choice that makes me want to go catatonic and have someone else decide for me. In some instances someone has been more than happy to do that--Father Phil picked the readings, my aunt picked the music, my sister and her BF chose prelude music. But there are so many others that I can't keep pushing them all to someone else. I also can't call Randy at 2 am his time and ask him if he wants an angel on the urn or not.
I feel like an idiot, with my blank looks and answering, "I don't know," or "What am I supposed to do?" to just about everything that has been presented. I would like to be decisive, if only to pretend to myself that I am "getting through this tough time." But I'm not on either count.