(Day Three) Entry: May 12, 2017
He is finally home. Yes, he is on the other side of eternity, but he is also here. Next to us. Actually, his remains will reside most often on his side of the bed. Since we’ve been together, he has wanted that side no matter the bedroom layout. So I give him his way. It is oddly comforting and slightly uncomfortable all the same.
I love you. I so love you.
I’ve accomplished more toady than I thought possible only days ago. Filing insurance claims for a vehicle and a person, phone calls, details. So overwhelmed at the onset of this week shifts slightly into a sense of accomplishment today.
Even the septic
The aerobic septic has caused me fear and worry before his death. Its alarms that have gone off in the dark of night when Bill would fix it. He’s not here to fix it anymore. Who will take care of me? Who will protect me?
I see in today’s passage the cause of the widow was not being addressed as people tended to their own concerns and left them helpless:
They do not bring justice to the fatherless, and the widow’s cause does not come to them.
God, You will defend my cause, You come near to the broken and weak. This I know.
The other day I had to call many places to change the accounts from Bill, to me. Each were offered with condolences.
But one was like a tangible kiss from God.
I call the septic company (Lonestar Aerobic Services) and the lady on the other line walked me through the contract, which arrived in the mail days earlier. She tells me she will have an employee come out and walk me through each step so I am acquainted with the filthy contraption. Then, she does the unimaginable. She tells me to send the signed contract back to her and throw away the invoice.
What??? She says they will take care of me for the next year. It is their call to take care of the widows!
This little sentence accompanies the invoice:
I worry about the lack of communication from insurance companies, the lack of health insurance, the lack of understanding on issues foreign to me.
You are my husband, my father. You know my lack and fear and are taking care of me. Always. Even though Bill is with you and not here, You are here.
You are near.
Here I am Lord. Help me. Let me be a help to my girls. I love you. When my chest heaves in grief, hold me close. Wipe away my snot. Let me collapse in your loving arms.
God, You are good all the time!