Every so often, I see cars similar to Prince Charming’s when I’m out and about. It always takes my breath away to see one . . . especially when it’s red like his. It’s always a bittersweet experience . . . I’m happy to see the car but I’m sad because I know it’s not him.
I also see Ford F350 pickup trucks sometimes when I’m out and about. That’s the type of truck that caused the accident that killed Prince Charming. I’m always amazed at how big of a truck it really is.
The other day I happened to park next to a Ford F350 pick up truck when I went to the grocery store. And I passed a car like Prince Charming’s in the parking lot on my way into the grocery store. It was a little red car just like his and it took my breath away to see it. I stood there for a couple of seconds next to the car . . . and then looked across the parking lot to where I had parked Hal and looked at the size of the Ford F350 pickup truck I parked next to . . . and I realized there was no way that Prince Charming would have ever survived the accident. There is no way that his little bitty car would have been able to protect him from the impact of a F350 flatbed tow truck carrying a pickup truck coming at him at 50 mph.
It was something that several people had tried to explain to me . . . and I said I understood but I really didn’t . . . until I saw two similar vehicles in the same place at the same time.
He didn’t stand a chance . . . and he had no idea what happened to him . . . and for that I will always be eternally grateful.
Over the course of the past year, I occasionally hear the phrase “make you whole” whenever I’m talking to someone about Prince Charming’s estate. The phrase has always made me gasp and it brings whatever conversation I’m having to a complete stop while the person who said it tries to figure out what to say next and if I’m going to burst into tears . . .
It happened on Thursday during a meeting with the paralegal at the estate attorney’s office. We were reviewing a check that I had received from one of the insurance companies and determining if it actually covers all Prince Charming’s funeral expenses. At one point she asked me, “Does this make you whole?” . . . and I gasped and she looked at me realizing she had stepped into a big pile of doggie doo-doo . . . and she rephrased the question . . . and we finished the meeting.
I’ve been running this through my head a lot lately . . . the concept of “making you whole” by throwing money at what the insurance companies and the attorneys consider a “problem.” If you mean “making you whole” by reimbursing you for expenses incurred, then yes I suppose I will be “made whole” by receiving whatever check they are sending me. But in my mind (and grant you I still have a very serious case of widow’s brain so my logic might be a bit flawed) “making you whole” would include not just reimbursing me for the money that was spent for Prince Charming’s funeral but it should also include Prince Charming not being dead . . . and I know that it’s not likely to happen, but am I wrong to think that would be the best case scenario and the true definition of the phrase?
You can’t make me whole by giving me money to replace the man I’ve loved all of my life. You can’t use money to replace a father, grandfather, brother, son, uncle, nephew, friend . . . how do I . . . how could I . . . put a price on that?
I don’t want the money. I would give it all back in a heartbeat to for Prince Charming not to have been killed in the accident, for the children to have not lost their dad, for the grandsons to have a chance to know Papaw, to take away some of the pain in Prince Charming’s mother’s eyes, to not have my oldest niece refer to the day he died as “that awful day in January” . . . I could go on, but I think you get my point.
I guess this is another one of those things that people say to people who are grieving and they have no idea the impact of those words . . .
By the way . . . the estate isn’t settled yet . . . and probably won’t be for a little while yet. But that’s another story for another day.
I had to go to the Title Department to get the title for the Dog Mobile (long story I’ll tell you later). The Title Department is located in the courthouse here in Smalltown . . . and the entry has scanning devices. I put my purse and whatever metal objects I had in my pockets (my work keys and my work badge) onto the conveyor belt and walked through the metal detector. (By the way, I passed but I’m always nervous that it’s going to pick up on the metal plate in my left wrist.)
When I stopped at the end of the conveyor belt to pick up my purse, the deputy that scanned my purse joked with me about the spoon he saw on the scan . . . (from the yogurt that I had at work that morning) but never said a thing about the bottle opener I had in there from my last trip to the cemetery to have a beer with Prince Charming.
So now I’m wondering, is having a bottle opener in your purse is more common than having a spoon . . .