Others have answered what to do, and what to avoid from others; and also what is happening, and that it has to happen. I can't offer anything over what they've said about that. But I would like to offer a view on a possible timeline.
My cat (we have others; but they are "our cats". I, and I alone, was her human) Isabella died a while back. We knew this was coming for a long time; she was almost 20, if we believe her previous family, and was with me for over 10 years; and she was given a "year or so" diagnosis two years before. I am also not very emotional myself.
All this to say that it took almost a month to not reflexively look for her or expect her to jump up when I sat down at the computer, or went to bed, and feel the pain; closer to three months before I didn't get reminded by something every day that she was gone; and almost a year before "Isabella will...oh", with its attendant twinge of hurt, stopped happening regularly. I still get flashes occasionally, when one of the other cats does something Isabella-like, or I see that same grey shape on a cat on the street. But it doesn't hurt any more.
Were it to be sudden, or were we not prepared, or were I more of an emotional person than I am, it could easily have been longer. It may be for you. That's not wrong. It may be shorter. That doesn't mean you didn't care. What happens, has to happen, and it takes what time it takes. It happens, and it hurts, and it takes time.
But it will get better, in time. It will be another part of your life, in time. If you're not as old as this grandparent, a year could sound like forever. It's not, but it isn't tomorrow, either.
For me, I have the urn "In memory of Isabella" on my desk where I can look at it while writing this, and a picture and paw print on the bookshelf; and some other pictures. But mostly I have 10 years of good memories, along with the one year of grieving: the grieving is over, the good memories remain. Even the grieving is a good memory, of a sort.
And that will be you and your memories of Bee. Hang on to that thought - and when it hurts, again, remember one of those good memories, and know that while she is remembered, she is never really gone. And take care of the other cats, and the other humans, too; and let them take care of you as well.
As a final note, one of our other cats came up to me and stayed for the first few days where Isabella always used to. She helped me feel better, and I hope I helped her as well. And that, too, is a good memory.