It’s been 7 months now, since Himself left us. A lot has happened, the sorts of things I never anticipated or figured I’d need to do. A few platitudes were thrown around initially, but for the most part people have been helpful and kind and and taught me many things about How To Friend.
Anyway…So many unexpected things have (and are) happened. The menfolk of this community have come around #4 in ways that seriously bring me to tears when I think about it. One of them takes him to breakfast regularly. Another couple take him hunting. One, who lost his father at a similar age, wrote him a letter about it, that has been an immense comfort. They have been surrounding him with a brotherly love that has kept him sane and standing.
The women have come around me, brought me closer, comforted me with raucous parties and hamburger trips (there is a place in Savannah called Green Truck with the World’s Most Therapeutic Burgers) and quiet listenings to my vents. Early on I remember reading all I could find on How To Widow, and many things warned that I’d be dropped like a hot rock, because of Fifth Wheel Syndrome (you know, Older Single Person Making Odd Number At Party) and Might Steal My Husband Disorder…that hasn’t happened. Not even remotely. Maybe I just have really good friends. Maybe they don’t have husbands I’m interested in stealing. Perhaps there’s so much of me I count as 2…No clue, but friends, I have in abundance and thank God for them.
All the legal paperwork is DONE. I am FINISHED. Even though Himself had no will, it’s all done and through the courts and signed and sealed. And I made a will. The paralegal at MB Esq. said please do, for she wasn’t willing to go through all this 4 times over with my sons. Also, everything that needed paying off has been paid off. Thank the Good Lord for life insurance, and for the for esight to insist that Himself get a private policy should he get that motorcycle and leave his hide on the pavement. Which he did not, but the policy was there anyway and allows small income until I figure out what to do with my life.
Finishing everything up was the turning of a page to a new chapter. The previous one was all about paperwork and the steep steep learning curve. The one before that was one week long, separate from all other weeks of my life, from the Monday he called and said he was having a heart attack, to the Friday everyone went back home and the house had no Himself in it anymore. This past chapter, 7 months long. The next one, only God knows. My sincerest hope is that it will be 22 months long, until I pack up and move to Alabama, to a new house and life and beginning. That’s just a hope, though. God knows what He’s doing, He has seen me this far.
Did any of you see that movie this Summer, of the little girl and her emotions? Inside Out, I think it was called. One of the premises was that there are pivotal moments in a life, special memories that stick with you forever, and you can recall perfectly. They can be good or bad ones…how do you even define “good” or “bad”? Every event has an effect on our life, influences the way we respond to stuff and people. The week Himself died was, by many definitions, a Bad thing. It was certainly painful for many people. However, many Good things have come from it. Good enough to make me say I am glad he died? Absolutely not. It’s safe to say I will never be glad of it, but good enough to say something beneficial to lives in this family has come of it. I have learned how to navigate the legal system, how to word letters so Bureaucrats Will Read Them, and how to budget carefully. All of the boys have learned how to stand on their own feet, and just how much Himself taught them over the years. We have all learned how very much strength we have, what we can do when we have to, and how to lean on each other. Thank You God, for family. Every event, whether we define it as Good or as Bad, effects how we live afterwards. Do we allow it to frighten us? For several weeks after Himself died, I was fearful of going out, driving anywhere, that sort of thing. What if something Bad happened to me, and left the boys without either parent? That wasn’t really in my control, and was selfishly assuming I had control of my destiny. It didn’t mean I should gleefully drive 130 mph down Excelsior Church Road, or take up FireBreathing BASE jumping,
but going to the store, living life normally, was ok to do. Then I became fearful of living the next 50 years alone, also silly. Most people get to live alone early on in their adult lives. I married at 21, went straight from my parent’s house to the one Himself and I shared. Now I get to see what independence feels like. Good things, all these, or maybe they are just comforting thoughts in the midst of a hurricane. Whatever. Like I said, I will never be glad he’s gone, but he is, and I have to make the best of the situation. I loved the life we had together. Now there’s a new life, and I need to learn how to love this one.