Yesterday I woke up prepared for the worst. It was the eighth anniversary of losing Rick to lung cancer. But I realized that, as the years go by, the major events aren’t as painful as the loss of the little daily things that I miss about being with him.
I spend a few days of the year promoting my widow book series at author events, and I have the opportunity to talk to lots and lots of widows and widowers. Even years after the major grief has subsided, it seems many of us are having the most difficulty coping with the idea of spending our golden years alone after hoping and planning for all the things we were finally going to enjoy doing with our spouses. We feel cheated.