It has been over three years since my husband’s death and, while there are some memories – both good and bad – that will never go away, I have come to terms with one of the toughest of them. I suppose it’s normal to feel a certain amount of responsibility toward those we love, be it parent, sibling, spouse or child. When we feel ineffectual at protecting or comforting them, it is surely universal to feel twinges of guilt at not having done more – or at not having been able to do more.
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