My husband died on Oct. 16, 2017.  He went to sleep and never woke up.  He was only 52 years old.  He had uncontrolled diabetes for over 15 years.  He didn't really like doctors.  A few times he tried treatments.  He did insulin shots for about a year.  He just decided and I stupidly agreed that we would choose quality over quantity. I am not in the greatest of health either.  And I always assumed I would pass first. I never imagined I would have to live without him.

We grew up together, got married when I was 16, he 18.  Raised three great children. Two boys ages 33 and 27 and a daughter 24.  When I started getting sick we decided we needed to make some lifestyle changes.  Without my ability to work we needed to cut expenses.  So early retirement was our choice.  We sold our big house in Las Vegas and moved to a small town in Texas.  We took the equity in our home and paid cash for a small house that needed a lot of TLC, that was in 2007.  He took a job as a security guard at a construction site.  Big step down from a casino executive.  Later he went to a customer service manager at an auto parts store.  We struggled financialy.  About 5 years later I was able to receive disability payments.  Things got a little better.  But his health then started to deteriorate.  He came down with Bell's palsy (tempoary facial paralysis.)  It seemed to escalate his diabetes.  He became drepressed and tried to commit suicide.  He felt like he was useless because he couldn't do the things he used to.  He then became unable to work with the physical and mental health issues. 

That is when we decided to make the best of things for as long as we could.  We had two great years at home together doing what we wanted when we wanted. We would play computer games until late into the morning and then sleep all day. The time was precious to both of us.  We were best friends.  We shared a ton of highs and lows.  I became completely depended on him.  I suffer from many health issues so he would shop, cook, clean, laundry etc.  I didn't notice that it was probably taking it's toll on him.  

We usualy went to bed together at the same time.  But that day he went to bed before me because, I wasn't tired.  A few hours later I joined him in bed kissed his forehead and went to sleep.  When I woke up I wondered why he was still in bed.  I reached over to him and he was cold.  I shook him, screamed at him, and grabbed his arm and it was stiff.  Reality hit me he wasn't breathing.  I wanted to curl up next to him and die too.

Here it is three and a half weeks later and I am lost.  I don't want to be a burden to my children but, I can't seem to take this empty house.  I wont put them through losing both their parents but, it's so hard to keep living.  I can't seem to figure out what I should do now.  I am so alone.