I am just not who I once was. I have been a “we” for so long. I am looking for her all the time, and I know I will not find her. I speak to her out of habit, I still cook for her, and her PJ’s are still under her pillow. I collapse inside when someone mentions her and I still shop for her favorite things. When I repair something around the house or something in the yard is blooming I cry because I cannot share this with her. I reach for her hand when driving…