I Finally Got My Driver’s License at sixty two years old, Right After My Husband’s Funeral But When I Checked the Saved ‘Home’ Address on His GPS, My Heart almost Stopped

Two months had passed.

But I still reached for his coffee mug every morning out of habit.

But the worst part of losing Richard wasn’t the grief.

It was the way his death exposed everything I could not do alone.

I could not buy groceries.

I could not visit his grave.

I could not even drive myself to the pharmacy for my blood pressure pills.