You can't get around the paperwork, even in death. After Dave passed, I stayed busy attending to the business of his being gone. I removed Dave's name from our bank accounts, transferred retirement funds to my name, closed down his cell phone (that one was tough), and signed up for social security survivor benefits. With each thing checked off, it felt like I was erasing him.
The first months were nothing short of brutal. People told me it would get easier. I had a hard time believing that. Every day was hard and didn't feel any better than the previous. The fifth month was a turning point. I took off my wedding ring. That was painful, but it helped me somehow accept that Dave was gone and not coming back. I was no longer married.
The waves of sadness still come, but I am laughing again. I am much more present for my children and grandchildren. My daughter told me she has her mom back.
We celebrated Father's Day by planting an oak tree in Papa Dave's memory. His lifelong friend, Andy, gave Dave the nickname The Oak, saying he was an "oak of righteousness" as described in Isaiah 61:3.
Indeed he was--solid in his faith, immovable in his convictions, consistently withstanding every storm no matter how severe. The oak tree will continue to remind us of Dave's character. It's his legacy.
We hadn't planned it, but we also went through his clothes and personal items. Everyone took what they wanted, and the rest I have boxed up to take to Saver's.
It's a process of letting go, like removing a Band-Aid. You might pull it off quick or take your time until it falls off, but either way the wound eventually begins to heal.
I am still grieving, but I'm starting to let go.
