My wife of 33 years passed away just over a year ago from a chronic liver disease caused by Hepititus C. I haven't been through all of the changes that may affect me yet, but the changes that have happened are likely pretty subtle to an outsider. I've always been a bit of a joker, but my humor is now more subdued. Before I would joke with women that I worked with that they were after me, but I was a happily married man. Now that type of joking around is something that I don't use. Although I try to behave normally, sometimes the memories are too much and I take myself away from everyone to be alone with my pain. I still keep in touch with some of our old friends from accross the country. More so now than I ever did before. I've opened up a bit to more people when I had always been rather private. It helps some to talk with others who loved her too. Externally, I've changed the way I live. I've changed furniture and decorations in my house, put away almost all pictures of her or us together, donated or sold most of her clothes, jewelry, her car, and anything else that was too likely to remind me of her. Aside from a few mementos I can't bear to have the reminders of what was every day. I've found that I have become more generous to others. I suppose it is because I have only myself to worry about supporting now. Even with that, I find that I'm not spending anywhere nearly as much as before. There are fewer frivilous things to buy now that I'm not buying things just to make her smile. I think that is the most profound change in me. I don't concern myself with my own future nearly as much as I once did. Instead, I do what I can to try and give other people a reason to smile. Getting my wife to smile or laugh was always what made me the happiest. Now I've turned to others for that. The pain is still there. It will never leave. But making someone else smile brings me a measure of happiness, and that makes the pain just a little easier to bear.