Like many people who have lost the love of their life, I never in a million years thought I’d be here. On my 40th birthday — which I spent with my husband and our two kids bowling, devouring cupcakes, and laughing more than I ever thought was possible — I never dreamed that by my 41st, I’d be a grieving single mom raising a son and daughter on her own. But here I am, and with each passing day, I get a little stronger, and life gets a little easier.
When I lost Greg, I quickly learned that there is no handbook for those of us who have lost our partner and suddenly find ourselves raising our children on our own. But I also learned that there is a community of people who are just like me, using all their might to put one foot in front of the other every day — even when it seems impossible — for the sake of our children and the memory of our beloved.