We never know from one moment to the next what could happen that could change our lives forever. We hear of tragedy every day. We sympathize with others and as awful as it sounds, quietly thank God it wasn't our loved ones. Maybe it's a form of subconscious denial but we tend to think that tragedy won't happen to us or those we love. But it can and when it does we suddenly become the 'someone else.'

Most people don't want to talk about death. Who can blame them? People just aren't comfortable discussing the inevitable end of their mortal existence. Some people have a downright phobia about death. I was one of those people. For years, I couldn't even bring myself to say the word. Suddenly I found myself having to deal with it.

First my mother-in-law passed away then five months later my own mother followed. I never thought I could deal with losing her. If it weren't for my husband I don't know if I would have been able to cope. Little did I know what the future held. A few years later, I found myself once again trying to cope with death. This time I was alone.

We hear sirens all the time. We hear them so often that most of the time we don't really pay any attention to them. That particular day, however, I did pay attention. I knew my oldest son was safe. He was home with the flu. My daughter was with me. My middle son was with his girlfriend and my youngest son had gone to the mall with his cousin. My husband went to his sister's boyfriend's house to work on a car.

I told myself there was nothing to worry about yet I couldn't shake the sound of those sirens. My fears were confirmed when I received word that my husband was in an accident. I rushed to the hospital with my twelve-year-old daughter. I was quickly ushered into one of those cozy little sitting rooms and told to wait there. Of course that's a sure sign that something is terribly wrong.

I was soon joined by two doctors, two state police officers and a hospital counselor. They didn't have to say anything. I already knew he was gone. They needed me to make the indentification. There I was, a person who couldn't even say the word, having to deal with death in the most horrible way I could have imagined. I didn't know how bad the accident was or what I could be facing as I was lead into that sterile white room.

I asked to be left alone as every emotion inside me came pouring out. At that moment my world as I had known it ended. A part of me died too. I had to tell the kids. I had to make the phone calls. I couldn't even think clearly. I had to be strong for the kids but I didn't want to be strong. I wanted someone to take care of me.

My husband had always told me that I was the mentally and emotionally strong one. What he didn't realize was that he was my emotional strength. The loss of my husband changed my life in every way possible. His death made me realize how much he did for me, how much I depended on him and how much I took him for granted. Losing him also made me take a long, hard look at my own life and myself.

At one point in time, I didn't know if I was capable of loving anyone but he taught me how to love wholly, completely and unconditionally. He also taught me how to laugh at myself and how to live life to the fullest each and every day.

My husband's death has changed my life in dramatic and drastic ways. Outwardly most of those changes have appeared negative but I believe that God works in mysterious ways. From an inner perspective many of those changes have forced me to grow and learn. I've had to face my fears, learn to become more self-sufficient and find courage, confidence and strength within myself.

The universe forced me to face my biggest fear and to become a different person through trials and tribulations. It's been four years since the loss of my husband and I'm still not over that loss. I don't believe I ever will be but I will continue to grow and change. Hopefully, I will become the person my husband always believed I was someday.