When I was 46 years old, my young husband died suddenly from a heart attack. He died in my arms, and I couldn't save him. This tragedy put my life on a different trajectory...one that could've spelled disaster for my own life for years to come. I wanted to cry in a corner, being catatonic and not interacting with the world. Actually, I did for several months after his passing. I had a business to run - being self-employed, with two teenagers to raise, a home to take care of, and, ultimately, I realized, a life of my own to live. I chose not to die along with my late spouse...but rather to live life passionately and with purpose to honor him, and to model for my children how to live. Sometimes, in the early grief, the only thing I had to be grateful for was the day itself - just waking up. But, with courage and support from friends and family, I kept going, not gracefully at first - with many mistakes along the way.