Since my husband’s death almost nine months ago, my Facebook page and YouTube channel get inundated with posts about grief, videos about how to handle grief, how to cope with loss, how to not lose your shit when you’re hanging on by a thread. Some of them speak to me, some don’t. One video that spoke to me was by a man who had lost his spouse. He talked about getting through it by promising himself to do 1000 new things in the next year. That’s a hell of a lot, I thought. Almost three a day on average. Hell, some days I’m lucky to stumble out of bed, feed and clothe myself and stumble back to bed. THREE new things a DAY? In the video I watched, the 1000 new things didn’t have to be monumental, bucket list, life-changing things. You didn’t have to snowshoe across Antarctica or hang glide off the side of a cliff. It could be as simple as trying a pumpkin spice latte or wearing a brand of shoe you’ve never worn. I’ve kept it in the back of my mind, though. I haven’t made an effo