This is largely a chronicle of grief, of falling apart and then picking oneself up and figuring out how to move forward -- or how to find a balance between moving forward and moving on. Much of the author's journey details the process of trying to find her late husband to say goodbye to him, to really believe that he is gone.
The author had been with her husband for years (and known him even longer) at the time of his death, and her respect for his mountaineering experience -- and caution -- rings through loud and clear in the book. He was hardly an inexperienced climber way out of his depth, and I got the sense that the author viewed his level of mountaineering/climbing knowledge as far beyond what she'd ever achieve. But it's also very telling to look at the pictures (my habit is to avoid the photos until I'm done with the book) and see how comfortable the author looks in her own skin when she's out hiking, climbing, dangling off a cliff.
Although the book is full of climbing details (as expected), they're accessible (explanations where necessary, without insulting the reader) and also not the real point of the story -- the skeleton, yes, but the meat is in the author's process of working through grief. It's competent rather than stunning, but something that I could easily see on the shelves at REI or MEC.
I received a free copy of this book via a Goodreads giveaway.