It’s my first time posting so bare with me. My husband of 38 years passed Feb 26, 2023. We were together 24/7/365 for years. I run my own business and a few years ago we moved so he could retire, He didn’t go gracefully into retirement and found it very hard to find his way. We had barely gotten settled and then covid hit. No chance to establish connections in our new neighborhood. Now I’m alone in a town where I really don’t know anyone. I have a daughter and 3 grandchildren who live very busy lives. We found out in October that he had a heart problem that would require surgery. Fast forward through the next few months of different doctors and lots of appointments and in mid February he went from 120 lbs down to 93 lbs within a week. I finally convinced him to go to emergency. He was gone within 12 hours. The doctor believes he had pancreatic cancer. I am strangely grateful for the isolation covid gave us. We spent hours talking on our front porch. They are good memories that cut through my heart like a knife now. I know we said all the things we needed to say. Now I find it’s just one painful day after another. I’ve been through grief before. My son passed at 7 years old from cancer. That was awful and if it wasn’t for my husband literally pulling me out of bed I don’t know if I would have gotten through. This grief is so different. It almost feels like fear? It is a real physical reaction if that makes sense?