• Mindy Rouse's husband, Jamie, died at home from a heart attack in 2020.
• She speaks about him often with their four kids, ages 8 to 16.
• She's found new love and talks about Jamie with her partner, too.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Mindy Rouse, owner of Moo Moo's Farm. It has been edited for length and clarity.

When my dad set me up on a blind date, I had no idea I was about to meet my life partner. I was only 21 and still in college. My dad was a farmer, and he set me up with the son of another farmer.

I had no idea what Jamie would look like, but I was happy when I saw him. More than looks, I was struck by what a good person he was. It was a breath of fresh air to go on a date with someone who was as committed to farming and faith as I was. We ate pizza together, and then Jamie showed me around his family farm. Three years later we had a big wedding in my home church, then went on a simple honeymoon to Myrtle Beach. Jamie needed to be back to pick wheat on the farm.

I didn't mind. Life with Jamie was my fairytale dream life. We had three boys in about eight years. When we discovered we were pregnant again, it was a surprise. We didn't find out the sex until birth, and I finally got my little girl.

Jamie died in our bedroom after a massive heart attack

On the Sunday after Thanksgiving in 2020, Jamie and I were in bed watching a Hallmark Christmas movie. I heard a little sigh like he was expelling air. When I looked over, his eyes were rolled back in his head.

I immediately called 911. The dispatcher told me to wake up my oldest son — who was 13 — so he could help me get Jamie onto the floor. I performed CPR until the ambulance got there. Then, the paramedics took over for about an hour. Ultimately, there was nothing they could do: Jamie was pronounced dead in our bedroom.

We later learned that he had three blockages in his heart, which led to a massive heart attack. We'd thought he was in perfect health. He'd had a physical only six weeks before.

Jamie was only 43 when he died. I was 36, and our kids were 13, 9, 5, and 3. Life as we knew it was over.

We moved about a year later and started rebuilding

In the months after Jamie's death, I was just surviving. Family stayed over almost every night. On Christmas, I asked them to go home. I wanted to be Santa for me and Jamie. Waking up with the kids, but without my husband, was heart-wrenching. But I cooked them a big breakfast just like Jamie usually did. In the years since, I've tried hard to keep our family traditions so the kids still feel a connection to Jamie.

The kids were out of school for one week, but I took a three-month leave of absence from my job as an occupational therapy assistant at a local school. I did grief counseling and focused on learning who I was and what I was doing with this life I never wanted.

I knew I wanted to sell our home, where Jamie had died. About 15 months after his death, I bought a small farm on the same road I grew up on, about 15 minutes from Jamie's family farm. That's where the kids and I started rebuilding our lives.

I needed to love and be loved after losing Jamie

Farming was so important to me and Jamie. He never raised animals, but he wanted our kids to experience the responsibility of living on a farm. Today, the kids and I have tons of animals on our farm, including cows, horses, alpacas, goats, and poultry. Recently, the farm has become our business: on the weekends, we host birthday parties and other agro-tourism events. It's all dedicated to Jamie, and a huge family picture on our barn reads, "Your legacy will live on."

Like lots of couples, Jamie and I talked about what we wanted the other to do if we died. He told me he wanted me to continue living and to find a partner who loved me and the kids. I know that was the true wish of Jamie's heart, and it brought me comfort after he died. That, and my faith.

I started dating about a year after Jamie's death. I needed to love and be loved when that had been snatched away from me so suddenly. I knew no one would ever be Jamie, but I hoped to find someone who was as good as him in his own way.

I'm now dating Brooks, the man I know will be my second husband. Brooks hears Jamie's name frequently. He loves when I share stories about Jamie because it helps him feel connected to me. Now, with my new partner, I can continue living and honoring Jamie's life.

• My husband died when I was 46, and I received a wake-up call about financial preparedness.
• His life insurance policy was a lifesaver as I developed a more long-term plan for our family.
• I sought professional advice to get through that time, and I'm glad I did.

In the wee hours of the morning, several days after my husband's death in 2003 from sudden cardiac arrest, I awoke out of breath, my heart racing. Would my daughters be able to stay in their schools? Could I continue to pay the mortgage on our home?

When my husband accepted his first overseas diplomatic assignment, I gave up my career. Once back in the States, I began to slowly rebuild my professional life, but I was far behind my peers in earning power and savings. Still, I didn't worry too much about our income and my slow-growing 403b. We weren't diligent savers; we had mortgages, car loans, and two children in private schools. We relied on the assumption that Uncle Sam had our backs.

Insurance was a lifesaver for me during that time

Suddenly, with a base salary of $42,000 a year, I became responsible for my two teenage daughters and, as an only child, my elderly mom. My husband had good life insurance in place (with his morbid sense of humor, he often joked about how "well off" I'd be when he died), which was a godsend, but I needed to understand how to use our money efficiently.

Most financial experts say you should have enough money in your emergency savings fund to cover three to six months' worth of living expenses. Being unprepared is exacerbated if you are not used to navigating the finances. In my case, I was aware of our position in general terms, but large decisions, such as our daughters' education and buying or selling a home or vehicle, were always joint.

As my husband's beneficiary, I received his federal life insurance payout. Early on, I received incorrect information, leading me to believe that I needed to keep the insurance payout I received in the low-interest settlement account. Learning that I was able to move it to an account that delivered a higher rate of return eased a lot of stress. My initial priority was not investing but making sure I had enough money coming in to pay our bills. I chose to work with an advisor at our credit union to invest the money in instruments that would conserve — and hopefully increase — my principal and provide an income stream to supplement my small salary.

I developed a long-term financial plan

My advisor suggested investments that would help me achieve the goals we had planned for our daughters. I was happy to learn I'd be able to keep my younger daughter in parochial high school and enable my older daughter to remain at her current college. Next, I paid off some high-interest items with part of the insurance money, which eased the burden on my modest income and saved me from having to make large draws from our investment accounts. Later, I tackled estate planning issues such as updating my own will and beneficiaries on all financial items.

Even though I knew how to access our bill-paying software and bank accounts, having no real savings of my own and a meager retirement plan due to contributions of only the 10 years we'd been back in the States made me anxious. The reality of planning a possible solo retirement made me again wish I'd been wiser about my personal saving practices. Soon after tragedy strikes, many widows and widowers rush to make huge — and sometimes unwise —

major financial decisions. A short time after my husband's death, I considered selling our home. but an accountant friend advised me to wait until I was on steadier emotional ground. I'm glad I did because the house appreciated in value, and I was able to secure a good price when I did sell it 15 years later.

I learned a lot about financial preparedness when I became a young widow

In my grief support group, I saw firsthand others having to sell homes or move in with family after losing a spouse or partner's income. I know I was fortunate because of my husband's foresight in planning for a future that did not include him. Because my life insurance had always come as a benefit of my employment, I purchased additional insurance to guarantee that the girls would have some assets should my financial situation change, or I could no longer work.

Even though I learned a lot by becoming a young widow, I wish I'd known more about financial planning before tragedy struck. Having to shoulder the weight of a family's financial present and future only added to my already fragile emotional state. At least, seeking both professional and personal help and a dose of strategic planning eased one of the burdens I felt immediately after my husband's death.

• Regina Lawless met her husband at 18 and was with him for 21 years.
• He died from a heart attack when Regina was 40 and their son was 15.
• Regina found love again later that year and is now engaged.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Regina Lawless, author of "Do You." It has been edited for length and clarity.

My husband Al and I were pioneers in online dating. We met in a Yahoo chat room back in 1999. My username included the word "heaven," and Al sent me a chat saying, "Is there any room in heaven for me?"

I was only 18, so I liked Al's cheesy pickup line. Soon, I realized we had a lot in common. I had recently graduated from high school and enlisted in the Army Reserve. Al was five years older than me and had just returned from four years of active duty with the Navy. He gave me tips on how to survive boot camp.

I was attracted to Al's worldliness and his humor. Once we met in person, there was a magnetic pull between us. We got married five years after we met, and our son, Morgan, was born the year after that.

At first, Al was the breadwinner, but my salary soon eclipsed his

Al worked in manufacturing. At the beginning of our relationship, I was still putting myself through college. He helped support me financially and emotionally.

Over our marriage, our financial dynamic changed. I got my master's degree and began working in corporate jobs, eventually becoming the Diversity Equity and Inclusion Lead at Instagram. My income jumped, while he stayed pretty much the same.

That never bothered Al. He didn't feel less fortunate because he wasn't the breadwinner. Although, the more I made the more he spent. The man loved sneakers and eating out.

Al was having a heart attack, but we didn't realize

In May 2021, Al and I went on a date. When we got home, he wasn't feeling well. That wasn't too unusual. He was diabetic and had experienced pretty severe indigestion in the past.

The next day, he looked really bad. I called urgent care, and they told me to hang up and call 911. I followed the ambulance to the ER, where the doctor said, "Did you know your husband was having a heart attack?" That completely floored me.

The doctors told me to call my family because Al might not make it through the night. I went to see him in the operating room. As I walked out, I collapsed. My parents had to pick me up off the floor. Shortly after, Al died.

I was in a daze until I went away for 3 days to grieve

The next few weeks were a daze. I held Al's funeral on what would have been his 46th birthday. I was surrounded by family, but I didn't feel like I could grieve with everyone else around. I was also struggling with panic attacks.

About a month after Al passed, my sister moved in. She provided some normality to our house. We celebrated Morgan's 16th birthday and tried to make it feel as normal as possible. Once I got through that, I knew I needed time for myself. I spent three days in a hotel, finally taking the time to process my loss.

I'm getting married later this year

I was with Al for 21 years, more than half my life at that point. I thought I'd meet someone else eventually, but probably not until I was in a nursing home.

Yet, that December, about seven months after Al died, I went out with friends. Something told me to take off my wedding ring. That night, I met Jeffrey, who is now my fiancé. When he first touched my hand, I felt a jolt. He was so compassionate about me being a widow but didn't treat me like I needed to be tip-toed around.

Still, I felt guilty. I worried about what people would think and that I was betraying Al's memory. Then, my therapist said, "What would Al want?" I knew he would want me to be happy because we'd had those conversations.

Jeffrey proposed to me in 2024, and we're getting married this October. I know I can honor my love for Al while allowing new things to flower. With time, therapy, and a lot of self-work, I've been able to open myself up to the universe. I've continually chosen to stay open, even when it feels scary. That has allowed me to love again.

• Bernard James' wife, Corlette, died from cancer in 2009.
• He had 6-year-old twins and multiple businesses.
• After her death, he moved across the country for a fresh star

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Bernard James, owner of Taste of the Caribbean LA. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I moved to the US from Guyana when I was a teenager and started working for my uncle's plumbing company in New York City. We did a lot of business with another construction company, and one day my uncle asked me if I'd seen the daughter who worked in the office there. "She's so beautiful," he said.

So, I called the company's office, knowing Corlette would answer the phone. Soon, we were on our first date. I was only 19, and Corlette was five years older than me. She knew exactly what she wanted: to have kids, buy property, and find a church home. She was a Leo, and I could see what a powerful woman she was.

Our twins were 6 when Corlette died

Corlette and I got married when I was 22, and a few years later, she was pregnant with twins. I was making about $1,500 a week working for my uncle, but I knew I could make more on my own. I started my own plumbing company and bought a building in Brooklyn during her pregnancy. I had plans to slowly renovate it and open a restaurant. Corlette was still running her family's company, too.

Everything was happening at once: babies and businesses. Luckily, Corlette was a strong, strong woman. She lit up a room when she walked into it, but in business, she commanded respect.

We were busy, and it was a surprise when Corlette was diagnosed with cancer in December 2008. Her health quickly went downhill. She died in 2009 when our twins were only 6.

I moved to California for a fresh start

The next few years were not an easy road. I still had the plumbing company and the restaurant to keep afloat, plus business ends to tie up for Corlette's company. A nanny helped me with the twins, and I also moved my sister in to help.

Still, the stress felt like a monkey on my back. I started thinking about a fresh start. Corlette and I had visited California together, and I had commented on the fact that there was no Caribbean food. I thought it would be a good place to grow my restaurant business.

I moved to California in 2013. Navigating LA traffic to get the kids to school and working late nights at my food truck was difficult.

I hold pageants in Corlette's honor

Eventually, I grew my California business from a food truck to brick-and-mortar locations. Today, we have restaurants in Long Beach and Hollywood. My twins, who are now 22, grew up in the business, bussing tables and serving people. Now, my son works with me and owns 30% of the business. My daughter chose to open a marketing business because she didn't want the demanding schedule of running a restaurant.

It's been 15 years since Corlette died, but I still think about her often. I wonder where my business would be if she were still alive because she was such a powerful businesswoman. The twins and I still raise money for cancer in Corlette's memory, including through our Miss Caribbean pageants. We want to keep their mother's name alive, and it's working.

At the same time, I'm living my life. I have a 3-year-old son who was a pandemic baby. We call him Little Chef. He and his mom live with me and the twins. I haven't remarried, but I have expanded my family.