When my husband passed away suddenly just after Thanksgiving in 1999, I was terrified at the thought of a life without him.
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At 50, I have two teenage daughters coming of age in a world where women and men are still not equal. Not even fucking close.
My first order of forgiveness is to myself, for being so hard on myself. For falling short of the perfect body. For having negative thoughts. For tripping over my splintered soul.
In the 20 years since Greg died, there have been many technological advances and inventions. Things like the internet and Urban Dictionary and new words like “deathaversary” that aren’t real words but people say them anyway.