They Went on a Holiday Cruise and Left Me With a Man They Called a “Problem”

in his eyes. Grief wears many masks. I know most of them.

“How long?” I asked.

“Seven years. Cancer.” He paused. “Predictable and monstrous, as it tends to be.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Everyone is,” he replied. “It’s never quite as helpful as they hope.”

“My husband’s been gone five years,” I said. “Heart attack. No warning. Or none we recognized at the time.continue reading …