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I couldn’t deal with being alone after the death of my husband.

We spent all our time together to the exclusion of others. We were both introverted, anti-social, only children. We cooked (OK, George cooked), did projects around the house, and acted like boring suburbanites.

We were together for for 32 years until he died of cancer on April 13, 2013. He was 53. He’d lasted much longer than his doctors had predicted.

And I was alone. In our house. With virtually no friends and very little family. I’d quit practicing law years ago. My life was George.

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