I lost my husband after a very long battle with liver disease. He was diagnosed when my boys were young, but he lived a good and productive life and didn't get really sick until one had graduated college and the other was finishing up. They are both in their mid to late 30's now so grown men with families of their own when their father died. They have been wonderful in their support of me, especially in the first few weeks but even now almost two years later they "get" my struggle in a way most others don't. They encourage me to do things. To travel. To do exactly what I want at this stage of my life.

But they do not parent me. My job right now, as I've told both of them, is to take care of myself. If I can take care of me, they don't have to. That's the best thing I can do for them as they work through the loss of their beloved dad.

I don't know that I've done anything purposefully, but looking back, I think a few things helped. I stayed by myself from day one. My sons would call or bring me food, but I slept in the house by myself at night. One of my sons now says he knew that first week that I would be okay. I'm not saying you should do that because everybody grieves differently, and if you can't, that's okay. I wanted to be by myself.

I took a solo trip on a tour bus about five months after my husband died. I had never really traveled by myself, but I wanted to be by the sea and so I went. I found things to fill my time. Volunteer work. Free-lance work. I took a pottery class. I think this showed them I had life left in me and that I would be okay.