It is official. I did not get the happy ending I wanted.
This is what I am thinking as I sit in the front pew of my husband’s funeral in the church I have been coming to my entire life, my two young children on either side of me. I am thinking that my guiding principle, the one that gets me up and out of bed every morning, that life was fair and that in the end, if you worked hard enough, loved hard enough, and believed hard enough that you would get your happy ending, was untrue. That belief was shattered on the worst day ever.