Today marks the beginning of the third year.
It was two years ago that I sat in the trauma ICU at my local hospital watching my husband’s blood pressure on the monitor beside his bed. It read 69—and it was slowly dropping.
That was the moment I realized the ER doctor’s words had led me astray. He had said, “He has a brain bleed but we’re not going to operate.” I felt relief and asked, “Then he’ll get well on his own?” He nodded and said nothing more.
So I went home, called my daughters, and told them their dad would recover. I slept peacefully, believing everything would be all right. The next morning, reality set in—and with it came the end of a 63-year marriage.
Why am I telling you this?
For three reasons. First, because the truth isn’t always what we think it is. Second, because we never know what the future holds.
But the third reason is the most important: what we do with what life hands us shapes everything that comes next.
Life changes in a blink. We grieve—and we should. But after that comes the part no one prepares us for: the decisions that follow. We can avoid making them and get lost in our own thoughts, or we can choose to make the most of whatever time we have left.
I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel. I decided to take the future one day at a time while still planning for the long term. And that choice changed everything.
I had an active, profitable local and national gift basket business I’d run for 30 years. My husband had been the wind beneath my wings, especially with local deliveries—snowstorms, heat waves, it didn’t matter. But now it was time for me to fly alone. When I discontinued the local side, I suddenly had more time to focus on the national business.
To my surprise, that opened the door to something I’d always wanted to do: write fiction. I’ve now published four short cozy mystery ebooks on Amazon and have loved every minute of it.
Building and maintaining my websites, writing for my blogs and for Medium, and learning the ins and outs of online marketing have kept my brain sharp. They’ve also helped replace the income I lost when I stepped back from the local business.
I miss my man and the life we shared. Living alone at my age isn’t easy. Many friends have moved away or passed on, and isolation was not going to be part of my story.
The local Senior Center became my lifeline—good conversation, new friends, and a healthy lunch every day. And the best part? I don’t have to cook it. With breakfast and dinner kept simple, I spend very little time in the kitchen now.
Life will always surprise us. Some twists bring joy, and others break our hearts. But it’s how we choose to travel that long highway into the future that makes all the difference.