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.