A few steps forward -- the mortgage company called back. Totally unexpected on my part. And offered that they would refinance my loan even if I did not have a job. The refinance will take 6-8 weeks which I knew, and starting now or next week, will shorten my waiting for a change in the payments.
My worries about money in both the long and short term are somewhat of my own making. I will have enough for a few years if I used what we've saved plus David's life insurance. But i want to do more than that. I would like to, for once in my life, to be smart enough about money that I can manage a pretty good life, here or elsewhere, without needing full time work. A tall order, to be sure, but I am fretting over making it happen. I need to stop fretting and just work at it. A tough one for me. Worry is the most wasteful of exercise, but it is hard to let go of.
And the lovely funeral director, who handled David's cremation, managed to get the death certificates for me. I think he went to the pertinent office and picked them up. A very nice man! And so, I returned home about 3 and started filling out forms. I have to have a few notarized tomorrow, but hopefully, I will send off the first batch. Oy! Lots. But some only want a copy faxed -- I have to learn how to fax on my printer -- maybe tomorrow, maybe when I get back from England.
I will also be able to change the bank account, probably cash David's last pay check, and know that when I get back there will be no problem at all paying bills, including the funeral costs. I know, I know. I have no need to worry. But a bit of control, which is what this amounts to, and a chunk of work off the pile is going to feel very good.
And then, when I picked up the death certificates, I also picked up the small cardboard cube of David's ashes. This was bazaar. I have no feeling yet, or now, or ever? for this box of ashes. It is in the bedroom now, because I have no idea of where to put it. I don't want it for display.
This box, however, is the earthly remains of David? No, we are the remains of his life -- me, and the girls, and our family, and all of our dear friends. I get messages and comments about things that I've written here. And they fill my heart so full -- smiles or tears. i am humbled that someone will take the time to take a line and respond, and give a bit of their heart to me. Friends call, and thank goodness that they do, and let me ramble on about all the details of my grief laden day -- I talk about tasks, complain about insurance, discuss traffic and weather. And they let me. And they tell me they will come to visit me or invite me to visit them. And just be with me. It is a phone shiva. A phone and email shiva.
I drove past a cemetery today and wondered what it would have been like to bury David. That would have been totally against his wishes, and our philosophy. He did not want to burden the earth. I like that. We have deep enough foot prints carved by our modern lives. And as strong as I feel about the importance of place, I did not need a place to mark his presence, his life. He is in my air. David is remembered, not in stone, but in hearts, not in a final piece of real estate, but in words he wrote, tasks he did, and lives he touched. This kind of remembrance is what we always talked about wanting for ourselves. It is not easy. It is ballet; it is good jazz that never gets recorded.
3 comments:
We were young when Mom died. I realize that twenty eight is not really young, after all my mother had six children to care for at twenty eight, but I felt very, very young, inexperienced, and lost when Mom died.
Four of her six children came together as a team to handle all the details. At twenty eight I was the oldest in the group. My twenty four year old brother took on a great deal of the responsibility because Mom had entrusted it to him. His mind was rock solid and he was fair.
Mom and Dad had been divorced for just over eleven years when she passed, but they were still close friends. Very close and they both loved their children completely. Dad was in the front row, with his children, at the memorial service.
The cremation was over, the service had ended, out of town folks had returned home, including our father. Days turned to weeks and weeks turned into two months. Had she really been gone two months already?
Daddy called to check on me one afternoon. He asked if we had set the date for the spreading of her ashes as she had asked. "No, not yet," I replied. "We're all just trying to live our life," is what I told him. And then he asked the most innocent of questions, "Well, where's your mother now?" "Huh? She's DEAD, Dad." "Her ashes, Traci, where are her ashes?" "I don't know." "Do you mean to tell me that NO ONE has gone to pick your mother up from the funeral home yet?!" :D :D:D:D:D
As soon as it was out of his mouth the laughter started. The weight was lifted and we laughed and laughed and laughed. It was a very fun and, somehow, happy moment that came when I really needed it.
Thanks, Dad, for the laugh and for giving me a little something to share with Suzanne today.
Love you, Suzanne. I sure hope we get to see you in a month.
Yes, you made me smile today. Nice story.
Dad died in June of 2007 6 short months after my mom. His body was found 3 days after he passed so we had not choice but to cremate. They had already bought plots up in the village so they could be near my sister who died when she was 18 way back in '79.
Anyway, did he have a special place he liked to go to? Did he like a certain lake or the ocean? Maybe you can spread his ashes somewhere that he enjoyed? If you think he'd want to be near his home and his family then spread them in the yard!
Hugs and prayers!
~Carla
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