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Ten years have passed since Nancy Dupuis went from an idyllic life to watching her loving husband die rapidly of a brain tumor. As empty-nesters, they had just begun enjoying each other’s company again and were picturing many happy years ahead. A volunteer bereavement counselor at her church, Dupuis knew the phases of bargaining, anger, and depression that follow in the wake of tragedy. Now she possessed angry desires to put an end to the joy of others and screamed upon her bed after the funeral. She had a support group: children, siblings, church friends, and coworkers. These saved her from becoming a recluse. But how she wished that "people would stop telling me what to do… I couldn't be them and they could not fix me."
For a long-time, the author couldn’t honestly voice her feelings. Taking steps, one at time, allowed her to change circumstances and eventually accept her loss. Care of an empty house prompted a move to a condo closer to work. A glimpse of sailing ships roused her passion. Her husband's military career had allowed each member of their family to pick a favorite place to live. She opted to return to the East Coast, leaving her children and friends behind. Here, the author found a little white church and walked into new friendships. Some invited her on calming sailboat rides, others to relaxing tea parties. Through retirement and a second experience with love, she found her way forward.
Dupuis inherited from her mother a gift for writing. At the end of this short memoir, she indicates there will be no more books, unless she tries fiction. With her soft yet passionate voice, Dupuis could become a storyteller of note. We looke forward to seeing the author's name on the cover of a second book.