One week from now will mark the second anniversary of my husband’s death. The first year I spent running from Hell. Two days after I watched my husband slip away from this life, I drove to Oregon to pick up my dad to take him to his best friend’s memorial service . Four days after I watched the man I love slip away from this life, I attended that memorial service where I saw people who knew us both, most of whom did not yet know he was gone. I hadn’t had time to process my husband’s death, and then I found myself mourning a man I’d known since I was a kid. A week after I watched my partner slip away from this life, I was sorting our belongings into keep, donate, or dump. With my dad’s help I made trips to the landfill and the Salvation Army. If I see my husband again in the hereafter, I’ll remind him he can NOT talk about my love of shoes or my closet full of clothes. The amount of clothes and shoes that man had was staggering, especially given he wore about 10 percent of them. S...