We should have a crib ready, house buzzing with the excitement of "it's time". But instead, I sit sleepless in my room, two boys sleeping but suffering from grief in their own ways. Instead of adding a fifth member to the house, we lost Mom and Baby. We are three.
That was seven months ago.
I've tried to pick up the pieces as best as I can. Make new friends for me and the boys. I've tried to make the house livable for "our new situation" as it became called. I've made many adjustments, most hard, some good. I even recently made an enemy, through no fault of my own.
What does it mean to be a Widower?
It means not wanting to talk about it anymore with people who aren't here, who haven't been here through it with us.
It means trying to make it through each day without thinking about her, when she's everywhere. She's touched everything in this house.
It means going throu…