There is no way for it to be easy to wrap up your deceased spouse’s affairs. No way at all. I know that, and I knew that before these three weeks. But yeesh. Is it ever hard.

There are too many things for me to be able to tackle at once. It’s impossible. So I’m taking a few things a day and trying to accomplish them, and also trying to give myself grace through this process. But there are still so many things I have to get done, and they tend to multiply (one thing turns into three when I do some digging).

Here’s a fun example. She got an email saying that a credit card payment was late. No biggie, I have access to her email, right? But they wouldn’t give me her login info without a fun new thing (take a video of yourself to prove you’re a real person). Which I can’t do, because I’m not her. So I had to spend a half hour digging through the company’s site to find a form to notify them that she’s deceased, along with sending her death certificate. But they never tell you what happens to the account now. Is it closed? Can someone not steal her identity and rack up the charges? I don’t know. I still can’t log in. So who knows.

This was a very special time for us both. Our friend Margot and her kids stopped to spend an afternoon with Kellie and I two summers ago. Less than two years later, Margot will be officiating Kellie’s celebration of life. It’s still almost impossible for me to grasp that fact.

I cannot help but laugh at every every email that notifies her how much better her credit is than mine, even in death. Mine is good, but hers is stellar. I actually think her credit has gotten better since her death, which is HILARIOUS. Especially since that’s the result of payments I’m making. (The entire credit system is a scam. Pass it on.)

Yesterday, I wrote the last of Kellie’s progress notes. Today, I submitted the billing for 80-something of them. All but the last five, which is a massive accomplishment given the fact that each had to be entered individually into one of about ten provider portal sites with ten different logins and ten different sets of requirements. I had to mail in seven different sets of physical claims to three different insurance companies. If you’re considering doing your own private practice billing, I hope you enjoy stupid rules that make no sense!

You may not believe this, because it sounds like I’m making it up. But we LITERALLY had a minor fight about these progress notes five or six weeks before Kellie died. I told her that she needed to get caught up, because what would happen if she suddenly and I had to sort through them all without her. She agreed and said I was right. But like I said yesterday, she had the last laugh, and here I am sorting through them anyway. Shoulda woulda coulda, right?

Here’s another special one. Kellie and I have had the chance to meet Barack Obama twice, and Michelle Obama once. Here’s the only photographic evidence that exists from any of those momentous occasions, and I was just slightly too late with the camera.

I brought two packages to CVS this afternoon to return, since Kellie had ordered a couple of things that I don’t need. And they refused to take either one—one package had the wrong kind of label format (although it’s what the company told me to use) and the other weighs 22 pounds and CVS refuses to take anything over 20. So I’ll be driving 45 minutes each way tomorrow to mail these packages. Sigh.

I have only been able to find one pair of my shorts throughout this house. So today I sorted through about five drawers and found three more pairs. And bought some new ones. Sigh again. I don’t like having to figure out how to buy myself stuff that Kellie has always bought for me. Just one more reminder.

Enough with the reminders already. Jeez.

I could not love this picture more. So many happy memories.

I slept okay last night, but Coco forced us to get up at 6:25am. Yet another sigh.

I’ve found myself really missing Kellie today. I think that’s all I’ve got in me for now.

Take care,

Matt

Leave a comment

Subscribe now

Share

What We Can

I Don't Have The Energy for a Creative Title.