My precious Zoey. Zoey was my last living connection to the life Josh, my late husband, and I shared. I rescued her three months before Josh came into my life. She was there through our years together, a silent witness to our love, our ordinary days and the life we built. When Josh died, Zoey was there, too. I remember sitting on the closet floor, surrounded by his clothes, trying to hold on to anything that still carried his scent. In those moments when the grief felt unbear

I never shied away from getting support when I was struggling emotionally, and not a stranger to one-on-one therapy.When my husband died, I attended open grief support groups, closed support groups for those who lost a spouse, and one-on-one therapy with a grief therapist. Every group I attended and every session I dragged myself to had its purpose and helped me along my grief journey. However, in my one-on-one therapy sessions with my grief therapist, at times I felt like a

I remember asking this question when my husband died. Most people responded by saying that “I will always bear this pain. The new life I am now living will adapt to the heart-wrenching pain. It will lessen in time, but it will never go away.” Not very comforting. So listening to friends, family and society, I endured the pain and at times made unhealthy choices to numb my discomfort, to ease my heartache. My grief was at times crippling and debilitating. I pushed through