Five Years
I’ve had it with being a professional griever. Five years ago today, my husband Tim died. In case you’re a new reader, it wasn’t expected or peaceful or anything like a Nicholas Spark’s novel. It was a raw, real drug overdose. I found him. I called 911, and did the chest compressions even though the second I touched him, I knew. In the five years following that it’s almost comical the things that I’ve lost. All of the three dogs…