Tonight, I run across a corporate Christmas card that Rob saved for me a few years back. He always knew which ones I would appreciate for their creativity. 
Grief sweeps over me once again.
I miss the corporate side of our relationship: the ball games with clients, stimulating conversation over business dinners, and yes, even the annual stuffy holiday party.  I miss discourse with attorneys and executives; I long to once again peer over Rob's articles, gleaning new knowledge from each one of them.  As silly as it might sound, I peek in my closet, filled with business and cocktail attire, and wonder if I'll ever wear any of it again.
Because this part of our life suddenly died the day Rob was diagnosed, I mourn another facet of my lost identity ripped from me with no time to prepare. 
Oh, this is a complicated road to travel.