A few months ago I was attacked by something so powerful I didn’t know if I’d survive. My husband of 33 years died much too soon, much too young. I was left A here, alone. The lone survivor, except this was no reality show. It was the real deal. And it sucked. Still does. I was left in the throes of grief. Infinite, foreboding, unyieldingly cruel grief. I was literally drowning, fighting for each breath, not sure if I would ever live again. I felt caught between life and death. And that’s exactly where I was. In between one world and ...