One moment I was a 34-year-old wife planning vacations and hoping to start a family.
The next, I was signing cremation papers because his body was too badly damaged for an open casket.
The weeks that followed passed in a haze. My parents took care of everything—funeral arrangements, paperwork, and visitors—while I moved through each day numb and unable to sleep.
After it was over, I joined a grief support group. The silence in my home had become unbearable, and that group gave me something to hold on to. Get The Full Story Here