Two weeks past the one year anniversary of my husband's death I am still swept away with sudden crying spells but not so often, so I guess that is progress of a sort. I got through the year. I'm not sure how, but I did. I traveled a lot visiting friends and children and grand-children and just getting out of the house, the town, the life where every moment was a reminder of the loss of my best friend and constant support of almost 34 years at least provided distraction if not healing. But sooner or later you have to stay home and face the difficult tasks of paperwork, house maintenance, holidays alone. Grief is a funny thing. It isn't a completely unknown territory to me. I have grieved many losses--my parents, a loved housekeeper and surrogate mother, a divorce, my youth, friends who proved not to be what I had believed. But this grief is different. This is unknown territory. After a lengthy illness that should have prepared me for his final departure, my husband's death still came as a debilitating blow. I know he would want me to go on, and that does keep me trying. But some days, and today is one of them, it is just so very hard. Shifting gears into a new life at my stage of life is proving to be one of the hardest challenges I have ever faced.