Ramona,

It happened to me when I was 45.

Before John died I naively believed I was the sort of person who could brave just about anything. At some point I had to laugh at my bravado.

I knew John was dying from his cancer. What I didn't know was that after 27 years with him I didn't have a clue how to be myself without him there beside me.

It was so surprising and it made the process of adapting to a new/different situation so damned hard.

And I'm sure not everyone who has a partner die experiences it exactly the same but there are lots of similar if not universal struggles.

"I want him here with me right now."

Sobering.

I remember the moment when I understood there was nothing I could do to change how much I hated the idea of living without him.

Your "one white undershirt." was my Yankee's ballcap, a short stack of his white hankerchiefs (he always had a hankie to offer someone who needed one) and his social security card (laminated). I've been in a relationship with my now husband for 17 years but I still have John’s hat on the wall in my closet, and I carry one of his hankies and his ss card in my purse.

LIfe continues even when we pause or step away for awhile. Like you I was always still glad to be here. Reintegrating was so hard.

I did it though. I look back at my life and it cracks me up. I have an unusual life line in my palm. It has a break at its halfway mark. The first half had the same amount of joy and heartache as the part I'm still living.

Because that is exactly how life is.