I thought about writing something in my blog, but, I didn't do it. I really did think about it, but, I didn't do it.
I thought about writing about my ordeal. That is, the aftermath I am facing with the death of my wife.
- The hassle of the paperwork.
- The worries about what to do next.
- The appointments with two lawyers.
- Trying to find an accountant.
- The piles of documents I have collected since February that I have to sort through in order to meet with the lawyer on Wednesday.
I thought about writing about the money woes, and how I am proud of myself for not letting those woes take me down.
But I didn't.
I thought about writing about my progress or lack thereof with the cleaning of the house.
I thought about trying to find some words of wisdom that would (maybe) help someone that is reading this.
But, I didn't.
I thought about writing about my walks, and my lack of exercise which is holding me back.
I thought about writing about the soreness I have been feeling physically that is from the mental stress and strain.
But, I didn't.
And while I thought about writing, I was actually doing something else.
It has been so hard to drag myself off my butt to do anything. Not because I am fat, but because of the stress. I want it all to be over soon. Once I get up and moving, however, I am able to do quite a lot of work.
I still feel like I'm running on auto-pilot rather than doing things I want to do. Hopefully, this feeling will fade and I'll start to live again. Right now, my heart is still broken.
I had some help this past Friday cleaning out the darkroom that we have been using as storage for years. I figure if a box has not been opened for 20 years, it is safe to throw it out.
I can hear the crowds yelling that I should look in the boxes in case there is something there of value.
I did that.
I took things out that I thought needed to be archived. That is, stored in a box again for another 20 years.
The rest I bagged for trash.
My friends used string to tie up books that I am putting to the curb for trash. They also helped me bag stuff. I think we gathered about 10/45 gallon bags. Oh, I gave away about 200 romance novels. There were some things the kids found that they wanted, and I gave it them.
When we finished, about 80% of the room was emptied. The other 20% will be re-boxed and given to the archives. I will not keep them here. The archives are at a relatives home. They have lots more room.
As I clean, I think about whether I want to stay here or move into a more comfortable place. I go back and forth. The battle is whether I want to maintain what I have here, or make a total break from the past and move on.
It's easy to say "move on". It's much harder to actually do it.
I got rid of lots of stuff. I still have lots of stuff. I would like to keep some of it, and lose the rest. I have an emotional tie to all that stuff. I am very lucky to be able to have the chance to make my own decision. If the place burned down, I would lose that choice.
Today, I will gather as many old photographs as I can and put them in shoe boxes that I have saved. That way they will be easier to sort and look at. I have photo albums of all different sizes that I will leave alone. They are glued in some sort of order. The photos are stored in 3 places around the house. I will bring them together and start sorting.
Or, maybe I'll do it tomorrow.
Tomorrow, I will start sorting the paperwork I need for the lawyer's meeting on Wednesday. He will be helping me to sort through the near future dealing with pension and insurance money.
Sometime this week or maybe next week, I will meet with a designer to see how much a kitchen and bathroom makeover would cost.
I am also working on my guitar amplifiers and speakers to figure out what to sell.
Thursday evening, I will take as much of the trash down to the curb as I can. I still have a long way to go. But, I am moving forward.
Anyone wanna help?
