I've always considered myself an adult after all three of my children reached 18 with no major injuries or jail time. I paid bills and took care of chores and lived a life worth living. Then my husband died and I realized how many things he took care of that are now left to me. He really, really took care of me and I feel embarrassed for not thanking him properly. I have no idea when the lawn mower needs its oil changed or how in the heck to do it. Luckily the truck has a light to come on to remind me. I can fix the toilet now. I've learned to put string on my weedeater and set mouse traps. The yard doesn't look perfect, but I've seen worse. I haven't killed any of the fruit trees. I know how thankful I was when it came to funeral arrangements and my husband had taken care of that for me so I took care of mine. All done. I even ordered our head stone and I'm hoping it will be in place by his birthday. I've redone beneficiaries on the 401 k's and updated my will. I clean the house and try to donate stuff where it might do some good, but that's taking some time. It's hard to let go of things that hold memories, but I'm doing it slowly. I'm taking better care of myself. Massage scheduled for tomorrow. I cry when I need to (and sometimes it just happens) and lately I scream when I need to and as crazy as that sounds it helps. I'm living alone for the first time in 59 years and it's an adjustment. An adventure. A learning opportunity.
No comments:
Post a Comment