My New Insurance Card

My sister and I ate lunch Saturday at Red Lobster. After lunch, we went to Cato, Hobby Lobby, Shoe Department, and Cothran's Bakery. She exchanged a shirt, bought picture frames and a pair of shoes. I bought pens, baskets, and shoes. We both bought cookies and those peanut butter/cornflake candies, and had them at home with Lipton's White Tea. Just after we got home, DH's cousin delivered the rest of my deck furniture--the footrests and table that match the Adirondack chairs.

My sister left, and I walked to the mailbox. Now that I live "in the country", I have to walk down the driveway to the mailbox (or stop on my way in after work). I also have to "signal" the mailman that I have mail that needs to be picked up, but that's a subject for another day...I try to go through the mail as soon as I get it out of the box so that I can shred what should be shredded and throw away the other junk. Yesterday, I got an envelope from the company that handles our teacher insurance, and it was different from the statements that I get telling me how much they've paid on each claim. I was a little frustrated, but because I was afraid that it was a letter telling me that a claim had been denied, and that I would owe a doctor or the dialysis center or the hospital some great sum of money.

I was wrong...it was my new insurance card. The company lets an employee change status during the middle of the insurance "year" if there is a drastic change in life circumstances, and I had a drastic change when DH passed away. My new coverage started April 1, and I'm back (after almost nine years) to single coverage. I will have about $130 more money coming to me every month since single coverage is MUCH cheaper than family coverage, and I no longer have to pay an additional $25 every month because DH was a smoker. I noticed the difference when my paycheck was deposited Friday night (direct deposit), and it will come in handy since I don't have DH's income to help with house payments and other expenses...but not at the cost of losing DH.

Dream a Little Dream of Me

I went to see my doctor three weeks ago. I called the office on a Monday morning to be sure he would be in the office, and asked to speak to a former student who works in the office. She had heard about DH, and wasn't surprised to hear that I was coming by after school. After I talked with the doctor, he agreed that it would be a good idea for me to take an antidepressant for a while, and something mild to help me sleep. My insurance wouldn't pay for what he prescribed until I tried a generic for a while, and the generic is working all right for now. I didn't realize that I WASN'T sleeping until I started sleeping better.

Until two nights ago, I had not remembered any of my dreams since I started on the medications. I have always had rather vivid dreams (a family characteristic, but that's a subject for another posting...), and I had noticed the difference. Two nights ago, I dreamed about DH for the first time since he passed away. I dreamed that he was telling me that he was going somewhere (I'm not sure where) with Gloria and her sister Julia. I have no idea who Gloria and Julia are/were, but something about his decision to go with them made me extremely angry. In my dream, I threw things, I pounded the wall, and ranted and raved. I woke up angry with DH...and glad that I had dreamed about him finally.

I suppose that if we analyze my dream, we see it as the beginning of another stage of grief--my anger at DH for leaving me. I have not progressed to that stage in my conscious state, but I suppose I have when I'm asleep. In my conscious state, I get to a point where I think I can't miss him any more, and then I miss him even more strongly. I have run into one of his brothers twice this week while doing errands (highly unusual in a town the size of ours), which brings DH to my mind even more.

On a lighter note...I do have a cousin named Gloria and a cousin named Julia. They are not sisters, and are on opposite sides of my family. DH never met Gloria, and he never called Julia by "Julia". We all refer to her by her nickname, and the only reason DH would know her "real" name is because she owns a restaurant with a slight variation of that name as its name.

I am making a little progress on the scrapbooks that I'm doing for DH's sons, brothers, and mother. I have trimmed and matted some pictures, and have decided on the general format. I have several odds and ends of business and correspondence that need to get done tomorrow, but I'm hoping to sit in my studio for a little while tomorrow afternoon.

I miss that darling man...

It's Not Supposed to Be This Way

There was some rain during the night, and the grass and trees look so fresh and clean. Most of that awful yellow pollen has been washed off the deck chairs (but is still puddled up under the carport since it wasn't a hard rain). The boys did the yard Thursday evening, and DH would have been proud--it looks as good as it would have if he had done it. In fact, it may look better since they were able to use gas-powered weed eaters. DH could only use an electric weed eater because of the lack of strength in his left hand, and he was never going to be as strong as two teen aged boys working together.

I went shopping with my sister and her sister-in-law. I don't have much desire to leave the house, but I also know I have to fight that feeling. I forced myself to go out to eat with them Friday evening, and then made the shopping trip yesterday. We went to two thrift stores, and I ended up with a couple of shirts, two turtlenecks (I dress more and more like my mother...), and a stack of books to read when I get to point where I can concentrate on reading. We had a lovely early dinner at P.F. Chang's, and I had enough to bring home for dinner this evening.

When my sister picked me up yesterday, she was on the phone with her daughter, my niece. Niece was out of town for four days this past week at a conference related to her field, and got home late Friday evening. They were about to leave to go to a friend's wedding at a city about ninety miles away from us, and they are coming by here this afternoon to eat lunch with us. That's wonderful, but what's REALLY wonderful is that she'll have her ten-month-old daughter with her! My darling great-niece, who is the light of my life...well, in addition to her mother, her father, and her uncle. A "baby fix" will make the next few weeks at school more bearable, and I might feel led to take off a day or two between now and the end of school to get another dose of baby kisses before summer vacation officially starts.

When I checked the caller ID after I got home yesterday, I noticed that my precious mother-in-law had called. She doesn't talk to machines (by her own admission), so I called her back to see if she needed anything. She's been watching the news reports about the tainted dog food, and she wanted to be sure that our dog has not been eating any of the recalled products. Over the past few months, our dog has switched from Old Roy (WM brand) to Mighty Dog (which I think may now be on THE LIST), and now is eating Pedigree. I generally buy dog food at WM, and they stopped having Old Roy, then stopped having Mighty Dog, and I think that Pedigree is almost all they have in the pouches.

While talking to her, I asked about my father-in-law, and she said that he has had some bad days. She said that she had a lot of difficulty yesterday morning getting him out of bed. He has chronic health problems, and does suffer from depression (and takes medication for it). She said that she believes that DH's death is weighing on his mind, and is causing problems. I know she's right...it's not supposed to be this way. A parent is not supposed to bury a child, no matter what their age is. I told DH several times that even though his parents didn't love him more than his brothers, they loved him differently. They had a lot invested in him because of the years of drug and alcohol abuse; they had done everything they could to try to help him overcome his addictions, and supported him when he finally let God help him. They knew him in his "before" years, and they saw him through to the "after" years. His mother remarked that there weren't enough "after" years...it wasn't supposed to be this way.