It feels like forever since I have been able to say, truly say, that I feel like myself. That I feel like more than a shadow of what I once was. In the first couple of months as a young widow, I tried to put on my happy face to let loved ones know I'm good. I put on my boss face at work, to reassure folks I can handle whatever they throw my way. At church, I try and keep it together, even though it feels like the sermon is whipping my soul. I get most of my cries out at home