The happiest of new years, Post-40 Bloggers. My wish for all of us is a future devoid of less worry – or at least better coping mechanisms to deal with those worries. Below is a personal essay I wrote in reaction to my worrying more after certain events in my own life and how I began to recover. Ed

2017 is the first year I left behind feeling less worried and more accomplished than I have done since Bronnie’s death in 2010.

Given that Bronnie died at the top of the year on January 15, contemplating a new year ahead necessarily took on new meaning(s). I suppose this feeling of accomplishment crept up on me when I began to be again the woman Bronnie married. The woman that didn’t worry half so much about all the catastrophes that could befall her or her nearest and dearest. The woman who didn’t get so upset at human flaws (hers included). The woman who knew that worry or not shit will happen. Put less colloquially – the woman who knew worrying doesn’t change the outcome.

Read on | What Mel Did