Whatever happened to the advertised Sunday afternoon blog? The dog ate it, in the form of a sad and sudden intrusion. My husband Bob died unexpectedly May 9 – so unexpectedly that I feel compelled to retell the story to all who will listen. My way of making the surreal seem more real.

Sudden deaths, I now know, blare in on ordinariness. They occur when we’re not looking, while we’re taking out to the trash or throwing the last load in the dryer. Bob’s was no different. He announced he was going out to run an errand. I offered to go instead. Off I went, while he apparently took up residency on the couch to watch golf on TV. There I found him, lifeless when I returned. The victim, his doctor concluded, of a heart arrhythmia.

Life feels out of balance here, in need of the healing that comes over time through grief. If ever there was a time NOT to overbook, it’s now. So in the spirit of the Dog Journal, I’ll be sharing what works for me – and doesn’t – in getting through this time. If my missteps along the way bring a smile, I’ll be sure share that too, because laughter, the first-cousin of tears, is bound to muscle in a time or two.