On July 27th it will be the second anniversary of my husband's death. I can say that now. I never thought I would be where I am today. Those days, weeks and months after his passing, I wanted to go with him. I didn't want to live. It was easier to end it and not suffer any more. My faith and my children have brought me to where I am today. I am not there yet, but I am better today than I was yesterday. It still hurts, I still cry and the loneliness is sometimes hard to bear. But I made a decision that it was time for me to part with his clothes. So on the saturday before Father's day, my daughter and I took his suits and other clothing to our church to be given to homeless men. I started thinking about moving. I still sleep in the bed he died in. My grief started in a different way. I had trouble sleeping and had low appetite. An opportunity to move close to my daughter, (I have lived alone for almost two years), came up from a friend in a casual conversation, a one bedroom, one bath condo on the floor beneath her. I couldn't believe it. I didn't think it would happen, but it was not in my hands. I had no control. So today, my daughter called me with the good news. I am having mixed emotions and will probably be shedding many tears. We have had this home for 21 years with many wonderful memories, adult children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. This was a second marriage for the both of us and we were together for 36 years, I am so grateful that my latter years will sweeter because he is smiling in my spirit that I will finally have peace being close to my daughters. He loved them as his own and they loved him back. I am praying that we all experienced the strength and comfort to walk this path.