Monthly Archives: January 2017

Well Duh

Last weekend was very cold here in Ohio.  I was in the basement doing laundry and putting away groceries and was amazed at how cold it was in the basement.  Has it always been this cold in the basement?  I don’t remember it being this cold in the basement before.

I have an old outdoor thermometer that I put on Prince Charming’s work bench to find out how cold it is.  The temperature in the basement was about 10 degrees cooler than the rest of the house.  I made sure the door to the basement was open so that some of the heat from the rest of the house could filter to the basement and made a note to myself to keep an eye on the temperature . . . which I completely forgot to do since it got warm again

It might be important to note . . . the basement is not finished.  The floor is concrete and so are the walls.  It’s mainly used for storage, the washer and dryer are down there, the shower, and Prince Charming’s ham radio equipment.  I don’t spend a lot of time in the basement so the temperature in the basement has never concerned me.  Although Prince Charming always bundled up more than normal when he worked in the basement during the winter.

We’re expecting an ice storm here over the weekend.  Like all good Ohioans, I stopped at the store for the necessary items I would need if I were stuck at home for a couple of days in an ice storm . . . dog food (canned and dry), green beans for Millie (yes, I still feed them to her because she still thinks I’m starving her), milk, bread, cheese (because tomorrow is my normal grocery day and I really do need these things).  I was putting the groceries away and some of the things are stored in the basement.  That’s when I figured out why it was so cold in the basement last week.

I should probably tell you that the register for furnace/AC is by the shower.  Which is heavenly because the warm air shoots out at you when you get out of the shower.  It’s not so heavenly in the summer when the cold air of the AC blasts at you when you get out of the shower.  When I was putting away the groceries, the furnace was on . . . and I walked in front of the register and realized that it’s still shut from the summer . . . to keep the cold air from blasting on me when I get out of the shower.

Well, duh . . . if you open the register, the basement might not be 10 degrees colder than the rest of the house . . . .

Yes.  I’m a natural blonde.

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I Thought I Could Do This

Right after Prince Charming was killed, I wanted to stay in bed, under the covers, and wish the world would go away.  But . . . I had to work to keep a roof over my head, keep the dogs fed, keep the dogs healthy, keep paying the bills and keep up appearances that I was “okay” . . . even if I wasn’t.

The one year anniversary came around and, once again, I wanted to stay in bed, under the covers and wish the world would go away.  But I took a day off instead and did stuff that wouldn’t remind me of him or have me constantly remember the date (I wrote the the date a lot at my old job at the mental health place).  I had to keep up appearances that I was “okay” . . . even if I wasn’t.

The two year anniversary came around and, even though I wanted badly to wish the world away again, I had started a new job just shy of two weeks before the anniversary.  I couldn’t tell my new boss that I needed a day off to stay home with my head under the covers wishing the world away.  My co-worker was facing the loss of her father that particular week and I was “holding down the fort” and keeping up appearances that I was “okay” . . . and thinking that maybe I just might be okay.

Sometime after the two year anniversary I realized that the three year anniversary would be a bigger challenge . . . because the country would be celebrating a new president.  The anniversary date of Prince Charming’s death happens to be Inauguration Day.  Every four years the country will be having a big party on a day that broke my heart.

Over the past few weeks, here are some of the things I’ve heard . . .
On January 20, we will hit the ground running and . . .
When President Obama leaves office on January 20 . . .
Mrs. Trump will not be moving into the White House on January 20 . . .
When Mr. Trump takes office on January 20 . . .
Join us for coverage of the Inauguration on January 20 . . .
When the sentence running through my brain is . . .
Prince Charming, 51, of Springfield, Ohio, left us unexpectedly, Monday, January 20, 2014.
Yup.  You guessed it.  I want to stay in bed, under the covers, and wish the world would go away.  But I can’t.  I have to do my best to show that I’m “okay” . . .
Even when I’m not . . . and I’d really rather not play that game this year . . .

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Let’s Put On Big Girl Panties

I have a sensitivity to pictures of car crashes.  I think that it’s horrible that news websites post these kinds of pictures on their websites and their social media sites.  I’m very vocal about how difficult these pictures are for family members and loved ones of the victims to see.  I’m forever asking some news site or another to consider the feelings of those near and dear to the victims and to take down the picture.  Sadly they never do.

My comments often start interesting discussions with others about how they agree that the pictures are hurtful and serve no purpose.  There are discussions with others who think that I’m too sensitive and should just “not look” at the pictures.

Today was one of those days.  There was a fatal accident in the little town where Prince Charming and I grew up.  The local newspaper posted a picture of the car involved but said they wouldn’t identify the victims pending “notification of the next of kin.”

I posted my usual comment requesting that the picture be taken down.  I explained about Prince Charming’s accident and explained how thankful that the local news agencies where he died did not publish any pictures of his accident.  I asked that these grieving families be given the same consideration.

Let’s just say a discussion ensued . . . some people agreed with me . . . some people did not.  One young lady commented suggested that I “put on big girl panties” . . .

Oh honey you do not want to go down that path with me.  Not after I’ve suffered through the third Christmas without Prince Charming by my side.  Not when the anniversary of Prince Charming’s death is a mere two weeks away.  Oh hell to the no . . .

I wanted to say all of the things that you will read next but I remembered something I read about not arguing with idiots because they bring you down to their level and beat you with experience. This is what I wanted to say but didn’t because the person in question is very young, has no life experience, and has no idea what she’s talking about . . .

Dear Young Lady . . .

I put on big girl panties . . . when two troopers came to where I work and told me that the man I loved more than anything else in this world (and had loved for almost 40 years) was dead.

I put on big girl panties . . . when I had to tell his son, his brother, and his mother that he had been killed.

I put on big girl panties . . . when I had to try to explain to our two dogs why Daddy wasn’t ever coming home again.

I put on big girl panties . . . when I had to make arrangements for his funeral . . . and I had no idea what type of service he wanted.

I put on big girl panties . . . when I dealt with the vile, evil, hurtful things that his ex-wife and her daughter thought I “needed to know” about the “perfect man” that had been dead less than 24 hours.

I put on big girl panties . . . when I stood next to his closed casket for three hours while the seemingly never ending line of mourners told me how sorry they were for my loss, how wonderful he had been to them, how sad they were that they would never hear his laugh or see his smile again

I put on big girl panties . . . when I stood at the side of his grave and realized I had to let them put his body in the cold ground.  And I had to walk away and start a new life without him.

I put on big girl panties . . . when I dealt with OSHA, a wrongful death claim, a criminal case against the man that killed him, and settling his estate . . . all at the same time.

I put on big girl panties . . . every day single day that I have to live without him.

In the big scheme of things, a picture on a website probably isn’t that big of a deal.  But to a grieving person it is a huge deal.  It’s a reminder of what you’ve lost.  It’s a reminder of how much your life changed, through no fault of your own, in the blink of an eye.

And, sadly, there are more than a few people who don’t understand that.  They won’t understand that until they go through it themselves.  And we, the grieving, pray daily that nobody ever has to join this club that no one wants to be a part of.

 

 

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