Snowstorms hit differently now that Chuck is gone – now that all the preparation falls on me. I didn’t panic, though; instead, I methodically ran down a list of things I knew Chuck would have done and started there. I picked up groceries, filled my tank, and bought an extra flashlight in case we (I) lost power. I was ready to be snowed in for a couple of days.

Several friends asked if I’d weather the storm at one of my children’s houses, but the idea never crossed my mind. I love my kids and grandkids, but didn’t want to be snowed in with 8- to 12-year-olds. Books, blankets, candles, and flashlights were all I needed. My neighbors had already said they’d handle the shoveling; four families on my cul-de-sac look after me whenever it snows. I can’t imagine living anywhere else, snow or no snow.

Sunday came, and the snow began to fall, as did my tears. I was hoping to read peacefully by the window under a comfy blanket, but my plan was thwarted by these unexpected tears and my inability to concentrate. Each time someone called or texted to check in on me, I cried again. Why was I unable to control these mini-meltdowns? I was safe and warm and still felt so sad – missing Chuck so much.

This was another “first” without my person. This first major snowstorm of the season brought back memories of being snowed in with Chuck. That usually consisted of Chuck making several trips out to shovel to keep up with the mounting snowfall. After his open-heart surgery eight years ago, when he was not medically cleared to shovel, he would anxiously look out the window while I shoveled – worried about my aching knees and back. Once back inside, I knew there would be some warm and yummy meals Chuck had prepared. We might watch a movie, but more than likely, we would be watching the news, endlessly updating the local snow totals. Then the predictions about whether I would have school the next day began. Simple memories of a simply wonderful partnership.

The tears overflowed into Monday, but were not as frequent. That’s when I started being annoyed with myself for breaking down so much on Sunday. Totally irrational, I know! It has only been four months since Chuck died, and I don’t know what ridiculous standard I am trying to hold myself to, but I should try giving the grace I give to others to myself.

On Tuesday, I received a CareNote from the funeral home in the mail. They arrive once a month. This month was all about crying and how good it is for you to cry while experiencing grief. I took that as a sign that I am doing okay in the grand scheme of things. I know I will always be sad that Chuck is not here physically by my side, but I am hopeful that, in time, my memories of our happy life together will bring more smiles than tears.