My life in boxes
Hello my lovelies,
As you all know my life had been upside-down for the past month. Now the holidays are done, the memorial service is complete and the death certificates are in process, so it's time for me to figure out my new normal. It's seems logical that the first step to finding a new normal is to develop some sort of a routine. Well, I am certainly developing a routine, but I'm not sure it's a productive one. Right now I seem to be spending a lot of time starting things (oh, if you only knew how many lists I've written) but not finishing anything. Here's a classic example, on Sunday I sat down and made a list of all of the people I need to send Thank You notes to. On Monday, I opened the box of thank you notes, sat down and the table, sobbed hysterically for 20 minutes then made myself a cup of tea and curled up on the couch with a book. Tuesday, I actually managed to get 5 thank you notes written before the crying took over and I gave up to once again become one with the couch. (SIDEBAR: if you are one of the recipients of these Thank you notes, which many of you are, I promise you I am eternally grateful for everything, but somehow sitting down to write the words in a card elicits a sobfest from my leaky tear ducts, so I promise you I will get them written and send eventually, but clearly not in a timely manner) The one good habit that I am getting back to is exercise. I am doing 30-60 minutes of exercise daily. Monday I biked 16 miles and yesterday I let my trainer kick my butt for an hour. Today, my exercise has only been schlepping boxes to the basement, but the day is still young!
The funny thing about all of this is that it makes me assess what I really want and need. I could swear that I like spontaneity! I don't want to do the same thing, the same way everyday, but now with nothing routine I feel like I am losing my mind a little bit. It's honestly a bit unnerving to not have anything definitive to do and no one to hold me accountable for actually getting anything done. I honestly think that the hardest part for me is that there is absolutely no protocol for any of this. Here are a few aspects of my new "normal" that are very abnormal and actually sort of disturbing.
New Normal #1 - boxes and urns
Sadly, the men in my life have now been reduced to boxes of ashes on my mantel. What is one supposed to do with boxes of ashes on ones mantel, I mean aside from dust them occasionally?
When the vet returned Ruger's ashes to us after he was cremated I put the box on the mantel, because that seemed like the obvious thing to do. It was a bit strange for me to look at the basket of dog toys on the floor and the box of ashes on the mantel, but the mantel still just seemed like the natural place for the box to be. Saturday, after the memorial service, my brother-in-law brought the box of Ray's ashes back and put it on the mantel beside Rugers. It's not an unattractive box, it doesn't look terribly cluttered, sadly, it kind of works with my neutral wood decor, but for some reason it wigs me out. Furthermore, I've had several people ask me what I am going to do with the ashes and if I am going to give any of them to Ray's mom. WTF? Really? That feels so weird! Somehow here is how imagine that conversation going... Hi Joyce, here are the groceries, butt wipes and cleaning supplies I picked up for you, oh and this baggie has 3/4 cup of Ray's ashes. Eeeeewwwwwwww! I really don't mean to be a jackass, but this is not a thing I know how to deal with. Granted, she hasn't asked me for any of his ashes, so hopefully, it's not actually a thing I have to deal with.
New Normal #2 - awkward conversations
There have been more than a few people that have suggested I use "the grieving widow" card to my advantage. I took this to heart when I was trying to negotiate getting the piece of the sectional where he actually died replaced as a warranty repair, but how I am supposed to deal with the routine calls from companies that Ray actually did business with. For example, late yesterday I got a call from the landscape company that Ray hired last summer when we decided we were too lazy to mow our own damn lawn, asking about the service that we received and confirming that we want to continue the service moving forward. It's soooooooo strange when they call and ask for Ray to say "uh, yeah, Ray's not available, is there something I can help you with?" Then to explain to the poor, unsuspecting 20-something niece of the company owner just earning a little extra cash while she's home from college on winter break, that the service was fine, no complaints, but Ray is dead and I'm selling the house, so we probably won't need their services moving forward. Awkward! FWIW, I haven't had the courage to reach out to the recruiter that I spoke to 15-minutes after the coroner took his body from my house. BEYOND Awkward!
New Normal #3 - TMI versus None of your damn business
I know that many, possibly even most, people mean well when they inquire about what happened, but there are days when I really don't have the energy to try to provide a sugar-coated, polite, mostly-nondescript way of how he died and some of the stupid comments that follow are just too much to deal with. Regarding the warranty replacement of said furniture referenced above I was able to do most of it over the phone, but I had to physically go in and sign paperwork for the delivery of the replacement piece. I'd spoken to the sales manager on the phone, but apparently I sounded very old and haggard on the phone, because when I went in to sign the paperwork her jaw dropped and she said, "Oh, my you are so young to have lost your husband. How did he die? Was it a cancer?" GAH! Where do I begin with this? I wanted to say "None of your f*ing business!" Though I was tempted to say was "Thank you, he was much older than me, I was only with him for the money!" What I actually said "It was unexpected, it was a heart condition. Now when on Friday, will they be delivering the new piece?"
All of my fabulous friends and all of the grief books and articles my sweet little neighbor brought me, say to be patient that healing takes time. I know that patience is supposed to be a virtue, but seriously, I think virtuosity is way overrated. Debauchery anyone? I think that sounds like a much more fun virtue!
Until next time....
XOXO