Tomorrow’s Sunrise has been a lifeline to me in a chapter of life I never imagined I would face. I was married for 31 years, together for 35—my last first date was at 21 years old. My husband, John, was not just my partner but the other half of my world. Losing him so suddenly, 2.5 years ago, shattered every piece of the life we had built together.

John worked hard every single day of his life. Together, we survived a million-dollar fraud and embezzlement case in the early 2000s—one that nearly destroyed us financially and emotionally. Even after a conviction and prison sentence for the man responsible, there was never a shred of restitution or accountability offered to our family. Still, John rebuilt from the ashes. He poured his heart and sweat into creating three Waffle Brothers restaurants—brick-and-mortar proof of his perseverance, talent, and belief in people.

We weathered the COVID pandemic by the skin of our teeth, holding on even when so many others were forced to close their doors. With Payroll Protection and SBA loans, it finally felt like we were in the clear. But when the federal state of emergency was lifted in November 2022, the loan John was already approved for—one we desperately needed—was suddenly gone. Rather than lay off the employees he considered family, and without telling me or our children, John sought a hard-money loan, trying to hold the business together through the holidays until spring.

But the economy shifted again in early 2023. Our customers dwindled. Bills piled up. And John carried that weight entirely alone.

On July 12, 2023, John left for work before sunrise, just as he always did. But this day was different. He quietly gathered sentimental items, wrote letters to every employee and landlord, and even penned an apology to the first responders he knew would arrive. Then he drove to a remote field, called 911 to give his location, and ended his life before they reached him.

At home, we knew none of this. My daughter received a letter he had sent to an employee. It was clear something was terribly wrong. Not long after, detectives and the coroner knocked on my door. In one breath, one moment, one incomprehensible instant, my life changed forever.

The grief was unlike anything I had known—heavy, relentless, consuming. I didn’t know how to go on. I didn’t know if I wanted to.

But then I found Tomorrow’s Sunrise.

Meeting other widows—women from every walk of life, carrying their own stories of love, loss, courage, and survival—gave me something I didn’t think I would ever feel again: comfort. Deep, genuine comfort born from being truly understood. These women didn’t need explanations. They didn’t shrink from my grief. They didn’t flinch at my story. They welcomed me with open hearts, shared tears, and laughter I didn’t believe I would ever be part of again.

There is profound healing in witnessing others who have lived through the unimaginable and yet still show up—with love, with humor, with honesty, and even with their lingering grief. Seeing them survive gave me hope that I could too. Their friendships—these incredible women who I now consider friends for today and for the future—are one of the unexpected blessings that emerged from my tragedy.

Tomorrow’s Sunrise didn’t erase my sorrow, but it saved me from drowning in it. It reminded me that even after the deepest loss, life can still hold connection, meaning, and warmth. It gave me a place where I could breathe again. A place where I didn’t feel alone. A place where healing—slow, imperfect, but real—is possible.

Tomorrow’s Sunrise has helped me believe that, somewhere ahead, another sunrise truly is waiting for me.

When I was new to the widows group Shari created, I attended a few Tomorrow’s Sunrise gatherings and immediately felt how special the community was, welcoming, supportive and genuinely fun. I met so many incredible widows and for the first time since losing my husband, I felt understood. But what truly showed me how extraordinary this community is happened during a very vulnerable moment in my life.

I had a flood in my basement when my sewer backed up and I remember sharing at one of our gatherings how overwhelming and frightening it felt. This was something my husband would have handled and suddenly I was on my own, unsure who to call, afraid of being taken advantage of and worried that once people realized it was “just me,” the prices would rise and the honesty would disappear. I didn’t know who I could trust to come into my home and that fear felt paralyzing.

That’s when Shari shared her vision for Tomorrow’s Sunrise, creating a vetted service directory specifically for widows and widowers. She explained that businesses wouldn’t pay to be recommended; instead, they would earn our trust by offering members discounts, standing behind their work and treating widows with integrity and respect. The idea that Tomorrow’s Sunrise would help us find trustworthy plumbers, electricians, mechanics and more, people who wouldn’t take advantage of our vulnerability, was incredibly reassuring.

What touched me most was realizing that Tomorrow’s Sunrise isn’t just about emotional support, although that alone is life-changing. It’s about whole-life support, from a hug when you need one, to companionship, to travel and fun and even to helping us feel safe and confident managing life’s practical challenges without our husbands. Knowing I can trust the community’s recommendations and collective wisdom gives me a sense of security I didn’t know I was missing. Tomorrow’s Sunrise truly sees widows in every part of life and for that, I am deeply grateful.

Travel was always the dream my husband Mike and I shared. When we were young, raising kids and living paycheck to paycheck, travel was limited, but we talked endlessly about the places we would go one day. Once we became empty nesters, we finally had the freedom to travel more, but, soon after Mike became ill and everything stopped. We promised each other that once he was well, we would start checking off our bucket list together. Sadly, that day never came and one of the most painful realities of becoming a widow has been accepting that the dreams we worked our entire lives for would never unfold the way we imagined.

When I first heard about Shari and Tomorrow’s Sunrise, I was struck by something different. I heard about widows traveling together, to places like Cancun, Vegas, Cabo and I felt hope stir for the first time in a long while. I don’t want to travel alone, but I still want to travel. I want to honor the dreams Mike and I shared, to cross places off our bucket list and to feel that he is with me in spirit as I go. Tomorrow’s Sunrise gives me the safety, companionship and trust I need to take those steps, surrounded by widows who understand how joyful and heartbreaking those experiences can be at the same time.

What makes Tomorrow’s Sunrise truly extraordinary is its commitment to whole, well-rounded support. It’s not just about grief counseling or meeting for dinner, it’s about friendship, laughter, shared experiences, retreats, conventions, travel and creating a life that still holds meaning after loss. I am deeply grateful to be part of this community and thankful to Shari for seeing widows not just in their grief, but in their hopes, dreams and desire to keep living fully. Tomorrow’s Sunrise is helping me move forward with courage, connection and the belief that even after loss, life can still be beautiful.

After four years of being a widow, I came to an honest realization: I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life alone. I missed companionship, affection and having someone simply there when I needed a hug. I was tired of going to bed alone, waking up alone and doing everything by myself, but when I shared those feelings, I often felt judged, as if wanting romance again meant I was doing grief “wrong.” That judgment made me question myself and stay quiet about what my heart was truly longing for.

I kept hearing about Shari Nelson and a Denver widow group called Tomorrow’s Sunrise through Facebook and something about it kept pulling me in. When I finally decided to attend, one of my earliest memories was sitting at a Mexican restaurant with Shari and several other widows when the conversation turned to dating and falling in love again. I nervously shared that someday I might want romance and instead of discomfort or criticism, Shari looked at me and said she fully supported and understood that desire and would even help me learn how to meet someone I could trust. I remember leaving that dinner thinking, Wow, this group doesn’t just understand widowhood, they honor every path of healing.

From that moment on, I knew Tomorrow’s Sunrise was different. This community embraces each widow exactly where she is, whether she wants companionship, friendship, romance, or simply to heal at her own pace. Through the activities, events and genuine support, I’ve felt encouraged to be honest about my hopes for the future without guilt or shame. Tomorrow’s Sunrise has given me belonging, confidence and the freedom to dream again and for the first time in a long while, I feel excited about what may still be ahead.

Six years after losing the love of my life, each day can still feel like a personal hell, one filled with loneliness, sadness and the grief of dreams that will never come true. Anniversaries and holidays are especially painful. This past Thanksgiving and Christmas marked my sixth holiday season without him. I truly don’t know how I would have made it through yet another season without Shari and the incredible widows community she has created through Tomorrow’s Sunrise.

Because of Shari, I didn’t spend the holidays crying and alone. She invited our local widows group to a beautiful Friendsgiving to help us through Thanksgiving, (she set the table with china and crystal, candles and more, it was beautiful). I felt special. Then she welcomed us into her home for Christmas dinner with her family, grandkids and all, it felt like I was part of a family again and then hosted our whole widows group for a White Elephant gift exchange (including a cookie and candy exchange). We laughed, we connected and for the first time, I didn’t cry on Christmas. I had something to look forward to, people to share the holidays with and hope again. Thanks to Shari’s vision and heart, I’m excited about the future, the friendships still to come and the amazing outings, events and retreats ahead. Tomorrow’s Sunrise has given me joy, connection and something I hadn’t felt in a long time, anticipation for what’s next.

In my search for new friendships, I found myself scrolling through Google looking for anything, a walking group, a hiking group, even a knitting group (and I’ve never knitted) just hoping to feel connected again to something, to someone.. Almost instinctively, I typed in “widow support,” and that simple moment led me to Shari and Tomorrow’s Sunrise. Finding this community helped me understand, maybe for the first time, how important it is to care for myself not just physically, but mentally and spiritually as well.

Through Tomorrow’s Sunrise and the heart and vision of Shari Nelson, I discovered a space filled with compassion, understanding and genuine connection and guidance. This community reminded me that I matter, that my healing matters and that I don’t have to figure out this journey alone. Tomorrow’s Sunrise didn’t just help me find support, it helped me find myself again.

When I first became a widow, I couldn’t see clearly what I needed, I only knew I felt lost, alone and misunderstood in my grief. Tomorrow’s Sunrise opened my eyes to something I didn’t know how to ask for: community, friendship and women who truly understood what I was going through when others simply couldn’t. Being surrounded by widows who “get it” brought an immediate sense of relief and belonging.

As I got to know the women in Tomorrow’s Sunrise, I realized we were all searching for the same thing, hope, connection and something positive to hold onto in the midst of profound loss. Through shared stories, laughter, tears and support, I found strength I didn’t know I had and the reassurance that healing doesn’t happen alone. Tomorrow’s Sunrise has shown me that even after unimaginable loss, there is still life, friendship and hope waiting on the other side of the night.

Another anniversary arrives and once again I stand quietly alone, holding memories of a love so deep that it still feels difficult for others to speak about. After 53 years of marriage, I never imagined what “til death do us part” would truly mean for the one left behind, the silence, the mask of “I’m fine,” and the ache of carrying a love story that still lives so vividly inside me. My wedding ring remains on my finger, a promise I will keep until the day I am reunited with my husband, as I continue forward cherishing the beautiful life we created, our children, our grandchildren and the future still unfolding.

What I have learned is how powerful it is to be given space to speak the truth about love and loss without judgment, discomfort, or being rushed to move on. That is what I have found through Tomorrow’s Sunrise, a place where I can speak my husband’s name freely, share our story honestly, cry, laugh and remember without guilt or explanation. Tomorrow’s Sunrise has shown me that grief and love can coexist, that being heard is healing and that even in the deepest loss, we don’t have to carry our hearts alone.

Some losses leave a mark so profound that time can never erase it. I’ve learned that holding onto the love we shared doesn’t mean living in the past, it means honoring a bond that forever shaped who I am. I feel my Don in the quiet, everyday moments: an old song that suddenly stops me in my tracks, a familiar scent, the warmth of the sun on a still morning. His presence lives on in my thoughts, my home and my heart.

After meeting Shari and becoming a member of Tomorrow’s Sunrise, I discovered a place where my grief is always understood, the good, the bad and the ugly and love is welcomed, not rushed or minimized. This community has helped me see that grief isn’t about forgetting, far from it, no, it’s about carrying love forward, honoring the life that was lived and allowing those memories to shape the person I continue to become. Tomorrow’s Sunrise reminds me that I’m not alone, that it’s okay to speak their name, cherish their memory and walk this journey alongside others who truly understand. Thank You Tomorrow’s Sunrise for finally giving widows a safe place to heal.

Valentine’s Day will always belong to my husband, Bob, and me, a day filled with memories of our first Valentine’s together 46 years ago and the many trinkets of love he gave me over the years, each one a reminder that love like ours never ends. This year, surrounded by our children and grandchildren celebrating Valentine’s Day and simply being together, I felt both the ache of missing him and the overwhelming gratitude for the legacy of love he left behind, watching our family laugh, grow and make new memories keeps me going.

Tomorrow’s Sunrise has given me a place where grief and joy are allowed to exist side by side, just as they do in my heart. Through this community, I’m reminded that I don’t have to stop loving or missing my husband to keep living and that being surrounded by others who understand makes even the hardest days feel a little less heavy.

Three years after losing my husband, Rodger, I am still learning how to live in a world that shattered the moment he took his last breath. Grief changed my identity, my nights and my sense of safety, leaving silence where love once lived, yet I carry profound gratitude for the life we shared, our children and our grandchildren. I’ve learned to be okay with not being okay, to laugh without guilt when joy sneaks in, to cry without shame when the ache returns and to take life one brave, fragile day at a time.

Finding Shari and Tomorrow’s Sunrise has been a true lifeline. It is one of the few places where I don’t have to pretend or explain the depth of my loss, where widows simply understand, hold space and walk beside one another through the hardest moments. Here, both grief and love are welcomed and I’m reminded that I am not broken for still missing him this deeply.

Tomorrow’s Sunrise has given me compassion, connection and the strength to keep showing up for my life while honoring the love that will always live in my heart. It has shown me that even after devastating loss, we don’t have to walk alone and that healing doesn’t mean forgetting, but learning how to carry love and loss together as we move forward.

Father’s Day weekends are especially tough without my best friend, Tim. He always looked forward to days like that, putting on a fresh, clean shirt and somehow spilling on it within minutes, making everyone laugh. Tim was truly one of those rare people: an amazing husband, a devoted dad, and a friend to absolutely everyone. In Lisbon, it felt like anyone who met him became his friend instantly. Honoring him through a golf tournament in his name means so much to me, because it reflects the fun, generosity, and joy he brought into every life he touched.

Finding Shari and becoming part of Tomorrow’s Sunrise has been a blessing during the hardest seasons of my life. This community has given me opportunities to get involved, stay connected, and remember how to laugh and cry without having to explain myself. Tomorrow’s Sunrise has helped me begin enjoying life again in a way that feels honest and meaningful, just as I once enjoyed life with Tim still close in my heart.

Another anniversary without my sweet Bill is always hard to comprehend. I miss him in ways words can barely touch, his smile, his laughter, his goofiness, his gentle touch and the comfort of having him by my side. I wish with all my heart that we had been given more time together, yet I hold deep gratitude for the years we did share, the places we went, and the countless ordinary moments that were extraordinary simply because we were together. Life felt joyful in the simplest things when Bill was beside me; now those same everyday moments can feel painfully quiet and lonely.

I am doing my best here on Earth without him. Some days are stronger than others, and there are moments when the weight of missing him feels overwhelming, but I am learning to pick myself back up and keep moving forward. I remind myself often that Bill’s love is still with me, guiding me, and helping me stand again when I feel unsteady. I want to live in a way that would make him proud, even as I continue to navigate this life I never chose.

Finding Shari and becoming part of Tomorrow’s Sunrise has brought a light into my life during some very dark seasons. The women I’ve met through this community truly understand—there is no need to explain or justify my grief. They offer compassion, friendship, and unwavering support, and while they will never replace Bill, they have helped me smile again and begin enjoying activities I once loved. Tomorrow’s Sunrise has reminded me that I am not alone, that healing is possible, and that even after great loss, moments of joy can gently return.

When my husband Richard died after a long battle with Stage IV esophageal cancer, my life shattered in ways I never imagined, even as I remain deeply grateful for the 46 beautiful years we shared and the children and grandchildren born from our love. Grief became a constant companion—sleepless nights, quiet tears, and the exhausting effort of breathing through each day—yet I learned that healing is not about forgetting, but about carrying love and loss together while choosing to live fully.

Through Tomorrow’s Sunrise, I found a place where my story mattered and my pain was understood without explanation, where widows share, survive, and gently begin to rebuild joy piece by piece. Shari Nelson, the founder, is one of the most remarkable women I know—her compassion, strength, and unwavering heart for widows have changed my life, and I am profoundly grateful to walk this journey alongside her and this community, breathing together and moving forward with love.

Dan and I spent over 40 years working, planning, hoping and dreaming.  We wanted to retire comfortably and travel.  When Dan was 59 we set out to fulfill those dreams.  We sold our home of 29 years in Colorado and settled in Cookeville, TN.  We spent a month searching for our forever dream home which we found and were over the moon.  While unpacking boxes, we both developed Covid.  I survived.  Dan did not.  

I stood at his bedside, in the ICU, totally alone and watched the love of my life take his final breath.  There are so many words that I could use to describe my emotions.  Lost, devastated, scared and so alone are just a few.  We had met our new next door neighbor one time but aside from him I did not know anyone.  

So, 5 weeks after closing on our dream home, I put it back on the market and returned to Colorado.

The next 2 years were spent finding a new home and trying to figure out who I was and how in the world I was going to survive the worst life event I had ever experienced.  I'll be honest,  I went to some very dark places.  I tried talking to friends and family.  But it soon became very clear that they had no idea what I was going through.  Therefore I isolated.  Not the best choice at that time.  I truly did not know how I was going to survive years if not decades alone.  

One day while scouring Facebook I saw a post by Shari.  She was reaching out and inviting any women in her area to meet for drinks, food and talking.  I decided to take a leap of faith and said yes, I want to get together.  The day we met was the day my life changed.  There were only 4 of us but we were all on the same journey.  Some of us new to this horrible life while others a little farther along.  We shared our stories.  We talked about the loves of our lives.  We cried.  We laughed.  But most importantly we learned that we are not alone.  There are so many women that join this club every day.  It's the club that nobody wants to be a member of but here we are.  

Since that day I have met so many amazing, strong and resilient women.  I have witnessed first hand the love and drive Shari has to make sure every widow knows they are not alone.  I am now a proud member of Tomorrow's Sunrise.  We have had so many fun gatherings including meals, wine tasting, a mystery dinner and even a trip to Vegas.  Shari is the best at asking everyone's opinion and for suggestions of what we want to do.  I am most excited about a promised trip to Cancun.  Shari and TS's makes sure nobody spends the holidays alone.  We all know that "help", "advice" and "support" are just a text or phone call away.  Anytime day or night.  We are free to share our feelings without judgement.  I know firsthand that that is a precious blessing. 

I am so excited about TS's and I know there is no limit to what Shari can accomplish.  I plan to support her every step of the way.  Life feels a lot more positive these days.  I look forward to the future with hope instead of dread.  Thank you Shari from the bottom of my heart.

Barb Lansing

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I have a beautiful life. My children and grandchildren keep me busy, fulfilled and deeply loved. I have friends, I have family. On the outside it looked like I was doing decently well after my husband passed. But inside, there was always a quiet ache, something missing that I couldn’t quite name.

One day I saw a post about Shari’s group, Tomorrow’s Sunrise. I wasn’t sure if it was for me. The idea of meeting strangers made me nervous, stepping outside of my comfort zone felt daunting. But something nudged me to try, so I took a chance.

When I arrived at the meeting place, a local restaurant, there was a whole table of women who were immediately warm, welcoming and walking the same widowhood journey. They greeted me with open arms. I sat down, began to talk and within minutes I realized what had been missing from my otherwise beautiful life, was, women who truly understood the grief of losing a spouse.

Spousal loss is different. You can love your family with your whole heart, but losing the person you built a life with, your other half, well, it changes everything. When you’ve loved deeply and that love is suddenly taken, you don’t just lose your partner, you lose the version of yourself that existed with them. Only another widow understands that.

In Tomorrow’s Sunrise, I found people who get it. Women who understand how quickly a laugh can turn into tears and how normal that is. Women who understand the longing, the loneliness, the rebuilding and the courage it takes to step into a life you never asked for.

Alongside that understanding, I’ve found joy again, real joy. We’ve gone to the theater, movies, escape rooms, dinners, wineries and so many fun outings. We laugh, we cry, we travel and we show up for each other.

It’s a gift to have a group of friends who understand widowhood in a way no one else can. Tomorrow’s Sunrise gave me something I didn’t even realize I was missing, a much needed community of women who walk this path with me, heart to heart, hand in hand.

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I want you to know that joining Tomorrow's Sunrise has made such a profound difference in my life. I’m not someone who typically speaks up in large group settings, smaller gatherings have always felt more comfortable for me. But even though I’m still somewhat new to this community, I’ve already found so much healing here.

One of the biggest realizations in this horrible journey has been: I have an incredible circle of friends. They walked beside me through every step of Ralph’s illness and I will always be grateful for that. But when he passed, something inside me shifted. I became a different version of myself. The things I used to enjoy don’t feel the same and I’m still trying to figure out who I am now and what I want my life to look like.

My friends care deeply and try their very best to understand, but they can’t fully step into this new version of my world, not unless they too become widows or widowers, which I pray is many, many decades from now. That’s why I felt drawn to seek out connections with other widows… women who instinctively understand this kind of loss, who “get it” without me having to explain every detail.

In the first months after Ralph passed, I felt like I was living on another planet. You and Tomorrow’s Sunrise were the first place where I didn’t feel like a burden, or “too much,” or like my emotions were something to manage. You gave me a soft place to land—a community of amazing women who understand every tear and every unexpected laugh. Through them, I’ve discovered that it is okay to laugh again. My grief hasn’t disappeared, I don’t think it ever will (but it’s becoming more bearable) that alone has changed everything.

Before Tomorrow’s Sunrise, I could barely talk about my story… sometimes I couldn’t even think about it. I had misplaced anger, and I had blocked out so much of those final months of Ralph’s life because it hurt too much to revisit. But here, in your group, talking and hearing others’ stories is helping me gently piece together this new life I’m trying to create.

I had tried other grief support groups, but I always felt out of place—as if we were just circling around the sadness and reliving the pain every time. It felt like our only task was to talk about how awful we felt, and we ended up crying for the entire session.

Your group is different. Tomorrow’s Sunrise gives me hope, hope that I can embrace the woman I am becoming, and hope that the future holds peace, new friendships, and outings I can genuinely look forward to again. Thank you for creating a space where healing feels possible, where connection feels natural and where, well -- I don’t just cry… 

With gratitude,
Laura Snyder

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I found Tomorrow’s Sunrise at a moment when my world had completely fallen apart. I was part of another widows’ Facebook group and when I saw Shari’s post about a gathering for widows who hadn’t met yet, something inside me said, try.

When I reached out, we discovered something almost unbelievable, Shari’s husband passed on the exact same day as mine, three years apart, and just three days after losing my husband, I also lost my mom. I was a full-time caregiver for both of them and suddenly, within 72 hours, the two people I loved and cared for more than anyone were gone.

I miss them both more than I can put into words. I’m only eight months into this journey, facing my first holiday season without either of them and some days the grief is unbearable.

But then I walked into Shari’s home for that first gathering and something shifted.

I was welcomed by a circle of strong, compassionate women, some who had just lost their husbands, others who were ten years into this journey. Every single one of them understood the depth of spousal loss in a way that only a widow can. Their warmth wrapped around me like a blanket I didn’t know I needed.

For the first time, I didn’t feel like I had to explain my pain. I didn’t feel out of place. I felt seen. I felt understood, I felt a tiny spark of hope.

Since that day, I’ve met the most amazing women and formed friendships I never expected to find in the middle of such horrible heartbreak. Tomorrow’s Sunrise has become a lifeline, a place of love, stories, strength and shared healing.

I’m truly looking forward to everything this community offers: the support groups, the laughter, travel, the workshops, the retreats, Las Vegas widow conventions, all of it. For the first time since losing my husband and my mom, I can see a glimmer of happiness ahead.

Tomorrow’s Sunrise is helping me believe that healing, connection and even joy are possible.

After losing my husband in November 2023, I found myself in complete isolation. The support system I thought I had slowly disappeared, and without children of my own, the weight of grief was overwhelming. I sought counselors and online resources, but nothing prepared me for the emptiness that follows losing your forever spouse.

Everything began to shift when a friend introduced me to Shari and Tomorrow’s Sunrise. From the very first moment, Shari made me feel seen, understood, and never judged. Her dedication to supporting widows is extraordinary—she pours warmth, compassion, and genuine care into every woman who walks through her door. She has opened her home and her heart to create a haven where healing feels possible.

What has also changed my life is the remarkable group of women I’ve met through Tomorrow’s Sunrise. Each one carries her own story of loss, strength, and resilience. Their courage and authenticity have inspired me, comforted me, and reminded me that even in grief, we can rise together. These women are truly outstanding—they have become sisters on this journey, offering support in ways words can hardly capture.

In a world where society often doesn’t know how to support widows—and where the responsibilities don’t stop: finances, housing, assets, estate matters, maintaining a home—Tomorrow’s Sunrise stands in the gap. This community ensured I never felt forgotten.

Today, I am profoundly grateful to be part of this circle of resilient women and to experience Shari’s unwavering dedication. I look forward to giving back to the very place that helped me find my footing again. Tomorrow’s Sunrise has shown me that healing is possible—and that none of us have to walk this path alone.”

Lavonne McNeil

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