Dear John,
I'm no longer crabby. I slept well and have turned back into my normal self.
We had a lovely autumn day. It was a bit unexpected in mid-May, but here it is. The temperature tonight is supposed to be in the 30s. I no longer feel guilty about not having my flower boxes planted.

I do hope that makes sense. There is still a hole in my life, but I don't fall into it as often as I used to. And I would rather have the hole than try to fill it with anyone but you. I am content being on my own and waiting to be with you again.
I am completely responsible for myself now; I don't have you to share that responsibility with. And I have indeed learned that I'm more competent than I thought. I can do the taxes, change lines in the trimmer, start a new career at almost-60, and install water heaters. I can even take care of abandoned baby kittens. I can survive being me, not we. And even though I travel solo, I am not alone. Most women walk this road. And I have my lovely group of widowfriends with me. We're all capable. We are strong; we are resilient; we are courageous. Maybe we're gonna make it after all.
Yours always,
Joan.
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