Wow, we have a lot in common. My late husband was 49 when he died of cancer. I was just a tiny bit older than you when I got married (22) and when I had my daughter (natural childbirth, another ten pounder here too) at 28.

Now I'm 66. Those years after his death when I was sad and strung out with worry I think I was the one who changed. Or maybe more just figured out who I used to be before meeting him. Seems like I (and probably him too) put a lot on the back-burner to forge a marriage.

In the first six months after his death our daughter went of to college. Trying to cope with the big, empty house I was left in, instead of going crazy (there was a likelyhood of that!) I wrote a novel. I also got myself out of massive debt. Overspending was my husbands bailiwick and his Achlles Heel.

As soon as I resolved much of what was preventing me from flourishing, I met my second husband. It's been very interesting...and wonderful.

My best to you. The loss really never gets easy, it just gets familiar.