Edna was a widow. A recent widow. Less than a year, anyway. Seven long agonizing months of widowhood. Widowed too young, thought Edna. Her life was her home, her family, her husband. And now they were all gone, all gone except the house she could barely keep up on her own.Damn. Damn, damn, damn, Edna thought. Of course, she only thought it. Edna never swore, not even damn. Shed been raised a pretty strict Methodist, and one just didn't use that kind of language, though she was tolerant of others who did. Especially as she sure as hell thought it these days. Damn fucking shitty hell is what she thought. And often those first few months of widowhood. And the pain was still there. But one day, about a month ago, she woke up and said to herself...what the hell am I doing with my life. Nothing. Ray wouldn't have wanted me to live like this. I don't want to live like his. So she made a plan. The plan was simple. Do things she had always vaguely dreamed of doing. At least try them. Do at least one brave thing every day.