Have been watching a programme on BBC 2 called The Widow's Tale with six women talking about the (early) deaths of their husbands. I will admit to some slight salty eye leakage happening.
It's so impossible to imagine that I would be able to live without "Monsieur Lis". I know I complain about him and give him stick and sometimes we fall out a bit. But he is my lovely lovely man and I want to keep him forever.
I think these women have so much super-human strength to be able to carry on breathing in and out without their "other halves". That's such a tired old expression, but when you've found "the one", they really are your other half.