u/Lepus-MCMLXVII

It’s been just over a year. I couldn’t bear to even open the closet. I knew I wanted to do it to help me move forward so it was hanging over me to some extent. This weekend I ripped the bandaid off and slowly pulled everything out, sorted through it. Took several moments to remember and put a few special things aside to keep or give to friends. Then I packed it all up and donated it. Then I cried in the car. Overall it wasn’t as hard as I worried it would be. At the end of the day it’s just ‘stuff’. It feels better to have tackled such a big job that I was dreading.

I lost my lovely sweet husband (53) a year ago to a so-called widow-maker heart attack. There was no warning, no signs. It still seems so unreal. I’m doing alright most of the time. Life goes on whether I want it to or not. Spent the day in one of our favourite places. It was quiet and peaceful. I hear the second year is worse. I truly hope not. 💔