This post is aimed at anyone who has lost a loved one — namely a spouse — after spending decades melding your life with him or her.

As many of you know, I lost my dear bride to cancer a little more than a year ago. Kathy Anne received a glioblastoma diagnosis and six weeks later she was gone. Her oncologist called it the “most aggressive brain cancer I have seen in all my years practicing medicine.”

But then came my emotional journey on which I embarked. Today, a major part of that journey ended for me. After agonizing since the worst day of life, I finally gathered up Kathy Anne’s clothes and delivered them to a shelter for women who need them.

I had been told there are many ways to approach this task. One friend of mine told me she donated her late husband’s clothes two weeks after she lost him. One of my dearest friends on Earth hired someone to empty his late wife’s closet after she passed from cancer about four years ago. Others have waited even longer than I did, while others have completed the task quickly.

I chose to wait. It was too large a leap to make. We had shared a home for 51 years. We became like one. Kathy Anne had been the embodiment of good health … until she wasn’t.

My journey has been a long one, to be sure. I have cleared many emotional hurdles. My friends have told me I have made great strides. My family has been strong, too. My sons, my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter have endured the pain of losing the pillar of our family. Their strength has sustained me.

Today, I am happy to report, is a good day. I believe I have cleared the final hurdle on my journey through the darkness.

The gentleman who received the clothing spoke the truth beautifully to me this morning. “Your wife would want us to put these items to good use,” he said, “and we will.”