I'm so sorry for your loss.
My brother took his own life when he was thirty-three. It was the evening before my twenty-fifth birthday.
I was a little angry then, but mostly sad. Thirty-five plus years later I am much angrier that he didn't try to get help. He was a man who lived life to the fullest, and I am angry that he missed the best part of it.
How did I cope? There is a balance between talking about a death and talking too much about it. My brother's wife and one of my sisters needed to talk about it at great length. My parents could not talk about it.
My brother was on the other side of the world when he did this, so there was no local funeral. People did not call me, they called my parents. I told few people. I did tell one friend who I could count on to tell everyone what was going on, but she decided it was too personal. ;-) When I did tell people -- especially people near my own age -- they were so upset that they became absolutely silent. Their hands trembled. It ended up I was trying to make them feel better. (My parents experienced the same, but with people becoming absolutely hysterical during condolence visits.) I had comforting conversations with my boss and his wife, who called me individually, and had thought about what to ask. Open-ended questions, as I recall. "What are you thinking about this?" I was straightforward about grieving, though. I don't feel it is unresolved for me.
I am angry today, because tomorrow is the anniversary of his death. Normally, though, I remember him with affection and good humour and am reminded of him by things he liked to do or things he would have liked to have sees. Though there is a family history of depression, I am not prone to it (I am thankful for that.). I live alone, though, and because of the family history, I am careful about staying clear of the tipping point, especially now that I have fewer family. If I find myself in a poisonous relationship or workplace, I address the situation or step away while I can still make healthy decisions.