The Widow's Dance

Nearly twenty months out from my husband’s passing and there are still “death details” to iron out. The latest one involves getting the deed on the house transferred from my husband’s and my name to just mine. Should be simple, right? There's no mortgage and a quick claim deed filed with a death certificate should take care of the matter. Or so I was told. But the county clerk sent the papers back to me with a note saying that I must provide proof that we were married at the time he died. How do you prove something like that and why isn’t it enough that the death certificate lists me as Don’s wife? You get documents to prove birth, death, marriage and divorce but no one issues you a yup-you’re-still-married certificate. To make it more frustrating, the quick claim form came back on Saturday so I have the whole, long holiday weekend to mull over this “hiccup” before I can make some calls to find out how exactly I’m suppose to prove what they want me to prove. It’s the widow’s dance: two-three steps forward, one step back.

Then there is the mail addressed to Don that never seems to end. Some days he gets more than I do. Yes, I know I could go down to the post office, file out a form and they’ll return all of his mail to the senders. But every so often something important comes along with all his junk mail and even though I think I’ve gotten the important stuff---the bills, credit cards and banking---all changed over to my name what if I don’t? I’d also hate it if Don won the Reader’s Digest Sweepstakes and the post office sent his over-sized check back. His junk mail gives me a good memory once in a while, too, like recently when a car dealership sent a key in the mail inviting him to try the key out on a car they’re giving away and if doesn’t fit at least he’d get a brand new dollar coin for coming down. Of course, we’d have to go to the dealership when he got one of those keys in the past but I honestly think he would have been disappointed if he’d won the car instead of the coin. What can I say, it was cheap entertainment to indulge Don’s dealership key plan for adding to his coin collection.

If it wasn’t for long holiday weekends I’d say I’m doing well managing my post-Don life. I got through the first year---the mourning year---and I’m closing in on the end of the second year---the rebuilding my life year. This widow is on track to finding and opening the next chapter in my life, whatever that turns out to be. I’m still exploring. But in the still of the night when I can’t fall asleep I am still making peace with the fact that although I will have meaningful activities in my life again I will never have another relationship as rich as ours was. I’m old and it takes more years than I have left to build that depth of trust, respect, friendship and love. Not that that fact should keep me from getting out in the world. The hermit life style might be easier, less scary than putting myself out there in the world but hermits start smelling funky after awhile. That’s not for me; I wholeheartedly want to continue supporting the soap and lotions companies.

Long holiday weekends suck. Have I mentioned that yet? Family parties and gatherings: gone and are never coming back. Mini vacations along Lake Michigan with Don: gone and are never coming back. Fun work projects around the house: bingo! Work projects can still happen with a plan. I’ve been lusting after a bottle tree. Maybe next forth of July or Labor Day I could build one. Maybe I could even venture to a spa like I’ve always wanted to do. Maybe I could paint a room or alphabetize the books in the library. Maybe I could volunteer to work at the museum or at the union's labor day parade. It doesn’t matter what I do so long as I don’t do what I’ve done this year and last....just sit around remembering holidays past. A proactive strategy for future long holidays could, would and will be a good goal for year three. Take a note, Watson, the widow has just figured out how to keep dancing forward.  ©