My husband passed away peacefully on Sunday, following an 8-day hospitalization, a three week stay in a skilled nursing facility and 24 hours at home in hospice. His family were all here and it was a relatively easy passing. Now I am riddled with guilt about the angry feelings that were a big part of his final months as I tried to deal with his violent behavior-a horrible part of frontal/temporal lobe dementia with vascular issues as well. His passing left me at once relieved and in deep mourning. And now that I am no longer a caregiver, who am I? To top it off I will, on Dec. 1st, lose nearly half my income, as his pension plan is that kind. I guess I really knew this, but the reality of it is going to kick in soon. There is no life insurance, and our home was sold in May with a move to a small apartment, allowing money to pay off a few bills and the many expenses his illness requires, yet one that I will no longer be able to afford, but for which I signed a year long lease in August. I alternate between determination to get paperwork done, planning a committal service, being absolutely numb and shedding tears of loss. The one light is that we had purchased a funeral plan that has been a true godsend. I try hard to remember the years when we were happy. He was a quiet, yet funny and joyfully talented man I fell in love with the night we met. I am alone for the first time in 38 years, and my fear grows daily.