A few years ago I watched my husband pass away from melanoma at the age of 39, we have three small children (5, 7, and 9 at the time). Going through that process was a very painful and transformational time in my life, and afterwards I was moved to write about the experience - part as therapy and part to help others, as they figure out their own 'new normal' and figure out how to live again.... it's just one example of a person's journey through such an experience.

My writing soon turned into enough content for a book, and now I am publishing. The title is "Life at the End of the Tunnel". Please feel free to check out www.LifeAtTheEndofTheTunnel.net - some previews are there as well as ideas on how to help you live while still celebrating the life of your loved one that has passed.

Below is the Introduction to the book:

We were all around him when he died....some of us holding his hands, some touching his arm gently; my 6 year old daughter had her pinky finger gently wrapped around his. There was a moment when he pulled back his spirit, almost like he wanted to stay. And then he let go…. and traveled ahead of us into the light.

The months leading up to this moment had been a whirlwind, the downhill spiral starting only three months prior. The violent shock of the initial news, the next-day brain surgery, the scary seizures, the many pills, wiping his tears when he was scared, shaving his head when too many were falling out, feeding him strawberry ice cream while 5 year old Katie wound silly bands around his thin wrists while he was in bed, and eventual teary-eyed whispers of "you can go, the kids and I will be okay".

We had barely had time to start to swallow the news received in mid-March and now we had to digest this moment where he is gone, only three months later.

This was the latest in an odd year, and the next year would be unbelievable as well.

As I was going through these last two years of my life, there were many things that happened that didn't have an explanation.  Some of these seemed to be guided from above, others should have answers in this world but I couldn't find any..... I had searched for information on what to expect as my husband was losing his battle to cancer. Such as how does the body change, as he starts to lose his battle? What would be the stages of death physically, mentally, emotionally? How do I best meet his needs while still maintaining myself, my family, and our home? How do I spoon feed an adult? Do I choose hospice at home? How do you actually tell him he's going to die?  What does it feel like to look at him each day and know your 39 year old husband is going to die soon? What is it like to hold the hand of your husband as his life slips into the next world? What does it feel like to pick out the clothes he will wear in his casket?

What's it like to know there's a tsunami on due course that's going to change your life forever? And later, what's it like to live again and also have countless blessings fall into your lap?

After watching death take my dear husband, I was flooded with signs that he was around us, helping us, loving us, and saying "hi".  Countless blessings started coming our way - the coins, the visions, the electronics and songs coming on out of the blue - the overwhelming signs were all over the place. It was clear that his life didn’t end, and in fact it may have only been the beginning.

Then after some transformational time, I met someone very special even though I wasn't really dreaming about meeting anyone. I quickly realized the magic was just starting; the signs were coming daily now, and the feeling of being "guided" was almost overwhelming. Not only was I living again, but I was living in a world of blessings and little ‘hello’s’ from Kevin, so powerful I almost felt unworthy.....if it weren't for the fact that I felt like there was a certain path being laid out in front of me (in front of the new "us").

This book walks through these life experiences, taking you through the physical and emotional journey of a world that has historically been rather secretive. Real emotion, in real time. Whether you are watching someone close to you pass, or not, it can give one perspective of saying goodbye, and then saying hello to life at the end of the tunnel.