Today I was productive again. I worked on financials from 11 am to 9 pm, with one break to go outside and play ball with the dog. I got everything done except some phone calls that I can't make on the weekend - insurance issues, most of which probably revolve around Anthem's uncertainty about the date of your death.
Now that I have the death certificates, I sent letters to the credit cards informing them of your death, that the estate has no assets, therefore there will be no probate. If the sharks gather I am to send them to Galen. He doesn't think we owe anybody enough money for it to be worth their while to come after the house or cars, and they can't come after me since the cards were in your name only. Once again, I'm so thankful to have a good attorney! Some creditors will come hard after a new widow, but not an attorney. (Soundtrack here: Wayne Brady singing the Yoko Ono hit, Attorneee.)
I also did three loads of laundry today. In the process of putting some clothes away, I started getting rid of some of your things that I can't take to Goodwill, like underwear and handkerchiefs. And I got rid of your white terrycloth bathrobe. It was so worn and looked so terrible, but I remember how much you loved it. I got it for you when we were in Cleveland for your brain surgery - bought it that day you had your pre-op cognitive tests and I did all of our Christmas shopping. That was a hard day; I wondered if you would be the same person after the surgery. That was the hardest day I'd ever had, until this year. You wore that robe all the time while you recovered from the surgery. It was so worn out that I'd decided to get you a new one for our anniversary. I'd hoped you'd be at home recovering by then, and would start wearing out the new one.
I wish you were at home. But you don't have to worry about clothes or bathrobes anymore. I miss you so much. Don't forget to pray for me.