I wish I could tell you that I handled the ringing in of a new year with optimism and calmness, but I spent too much of the time crying and remembering how much my husband loved ALL holidays. Just take a glance back at the post I wrote last year; although I was terrified of what this past year would hold, I didn't really anticipate his death. He was, at that time (as far as we knew) clear of cancer, getting his hair back and feeling OK, although still tired--probably from the effing lung cancer spreading insidiously to other organs. CANCER SUCKS! And I wonder, would I have wanted to know what this year would bring? (horrible family issues, estrangements, hospital stays, Hospice and then his death) Or should I have focused on the bowling outings, the game nights, the birthdays and holidays, the trips to NYC and Santa Monica, the evenings we spent together chatting and doing the Super Quiz out of the newspaper, as I tried to? I don't have any regrets about any of it, but wonder if I was realistic enough about his prognosis. Would that have made it easier for me now or is the whole situation impossible to process in the short amount of time I've had? I'm not sure I'm being fair to myself at all...In my internet meanderings, I found this article extremely thought-provoking. And although I'm not sure if it's healthy or unhealthy, I feel compelled sometimes to visit the cemetery, this past time to drop off a Rosemary tree, for remembrance.