I Hate Mowing the Lawn

I hate mowing the lawn.

Today when I was mowing I was hot, and my feet hurt, and there were sticks everywhere and I was angry.   I found myself talking to Jason and being angry at the universe because this was his job.   This was one of the things he always did, so I didn’t have to worry.   Yet another thing “he took care of.”

That’s what he did.   He took care of us.   He made sure we had everything we needed, and many things we didn’t.   And now that I have faced a month without him, I feel so lost.   Every day I wake up and wish he was here to take care of me again.  

But instead....I mow that grass......ANGRY.

Truly though, as I was mowing I was thinking about things I wanted to share.   Things this last month have taught me.   Because it wasn’t just the lawn he took care of......he took care of everything financial and although I consider myself a smart person, in the face of grief and immense sadness, I was also faced with the reality that my financial future was unknown, my partner was gone, my heart was shattered, and at the hardest and lowest point in my life, I had to begin to take care of myself.

So I’m sharing a list.   A list of things I want you to do.   Conversations I want you to have.   Roadblocks I want you to be able to avoid, and things I want you to be prepared for. 

1.       Have the hard conversations.   Have them early, and have them often.  Luckily we had.   We had talked about what we wanted for ourselves if our time came first.   I knew he wanted to be creamated and that I couldn’t bury him until my ashes were there too.   I knew songs he wanted, and I knew what type of service to plan.   Have the conversations.   Even if you think it’s not happening soon.    I thought that too, and I am ever so greatful I was able to give him what he wanted with no reservation.

2.     As my brother in law so eloquently put it, get your shit together.   Know where the life insurance policies are.   Know where account numbers and passwords are.   If you are the keeper of the finances, share all this information with your partner.   Finding all this information after a death is paramount, and I can speak from experience that Jason’s strong suit wasn’t organization, and in the moment my head wasn’t clear, so trying to figure out chaos was adding stress to an already sad time.

3.     Get someone to help you.   In my case it was my brother in law.   He had the mind to make the initial calls for me, get the information together, and help me navigate a world I was utterly unprepared for.   Let them in.   Let them know your finances.   Let go of any shame or guilt you feel.   Ask for help.

4.     Get a credit card in your name.    Not so you can sneak around behind your partner’s back and buy expensive shoes, but because when you tell your credit card company your husband is dead and he is the main on the account, they will cancel them immediately.   And when I say immediately, I mean while you are on the phone with them, they turn them off.  The person on the other end of the line may feel bad, but they have no choice, and you may suddenly find yourself with no available credit.   That scared the shit out of me.

5.     Be prepared to tell people over and over and over and over.....my husband died.   Every account, every utility, every single time....the pain is re-opened.   He’s dead.  He’s dead.  He’s dead.   It hurts.   A lot.   And the conversations are never ending.    And each time, it cuts.

6.     It’s okay to cry and feel sad and sorry for yourself but make the calls.   This process is not quick, and chances are you need death certificates for everything.   Believe it or not, some of these companies still rely on the MAIL service for information, so be prepared.   Follow up every two to three days to make sure the information has reached it’s proper person.   Things get lost, people don’t communicate, and it’s up to you to make sure things continue to move.  Believe it or not, they don’t really care if you need the money so it’s up to you to keep the wheels moving.

7.     Make lists.   Your mind will be cloudy and each day will feel like moving through mud, so make lists.   What you need to do that day, what questsions you need to ask.   This is also a good time to rely on your “helper person.”   Their clear mind may be able to help you set attainable goals when you can barely get out of bed.

8.     Know that there is no time to wait.   The day after Jason died I had to start the process of figuring out finances.   I was making initial phone calls and trying to get organized.   You need to wait for death certificates to finalize a lot of this, but the calls begin immediately.   I am finding that grief has to be managed while you’re dealing with the business of death.  

9.     You will get bills that make you angry.   I just got the bill for the ambulance and hospital.   You will still be charged for the emergency room even if they only take your husband there to pronounce him dead.    And they don’t discount that shit.   Those bills showed up at exactly one month from death and they opened up a whole new round of emotions, so be prepared.

10.  Don’t take your emotions out on the people on the end of the phone.   The people who handle death benefits have been very kind and for the most part helpful.   They know they are dealing with people who are grieving.   Don’t yell at them.   They are probably reading from a script and it’s not their fault the love of your life died.

11.  While I said earlier you need to start soon, know that nothing happens quickly.   Make sure you have reserves to handle your expenses while you wait.   I am more than a month out now, and still awaiting his last paycheck, life insurance payments, and more.  You can’t make claims without death certificates, so you have to wait for those.   It’s playing the long game at this point.   Be angry about it, be pissed off, but know it takes time.  Be prepared.

12.  Mostly....the biggest lesson learned.   Live your life, because you never know what’s in the future.   Jason and I made some beautiful memories traveling, having experiences, and spending time with our kids.   I wish every day when my eyes open that I could have more time.   Money is important, financial stability is important, asking hard questions and having hard conversations are important.  When your heart is shattered into a million pieces, you will remember the time spent.   Not the money.   Not the stuff.   You will remember the time...the things you did together.....the love.   So live.   Experience.   Cherish.

That’s it.    That’s what I have for now.  There are so many things about this that I hate, so many things.  But I’m moving ahead.   Trying to find normal.   Trying to exist in a world I never thought I would have to. 

Until there is more.....I’ll keep angrily mowing my lawn.