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Friday, July 31, 2015

Alone Again

My dear friend, Lori, left on Wednesday so I am alone again. I think, the thing I miss most is having someone to say "Good morning!" to every day.  This business of being a widow is a lonely one...

Lori & Kona
So I am back to aimlessly wandering this lonely old house, this house that seems no longer like a home, but a museum of memories.

Lori did help me accomplish many things, for which I'll be forever grateful.  We did manage to donate lots of medical supplies & equipment, including Bob's manual wheelchair, to the local hospice (though I still have the expensive hospital bed and power chair, I have contacted a medical supplier about selling the bed, but I'm not sure if the wheelchair is even paid off, yet.) And dispose of prescription drugs. And tidy up many other things including storing Boomer's things and picking up Boomer's remains (my little memorial table grows, I hope no more). Also did some fun shopping at thrift stores, antique shops, etc. -- and found a new (used) couch for Kona! This to keep her off my antique furniture:

Kona's new couch
Talk about a spoiled dog. She's acquired a new middle name, Kona Jean. As Lori kept calling her "Marilyn Monroe" -- such a blonde diva-dog she is on her very own "chaise lounge"!

To fit the new couch in the living room, we had to move Bob's hospital bed into the corner --- no easy thing for me. Will the tears ever stop?

Lori & I did some other fun things: trips to a couple of museums, a visit to the Gulf of Mexico (though it was raining the whole time) and some dog training/testing for Kona including a stop at a dog-friendly restaurant for breakfast.  I'm proud to say, Kona passed with flying colors.

Now it's back to "widow's business" -- my desk is piled to the hilt with paperwork:  bills to pay, cards to answer.  So many grim tasks, including yet another "certified death certificate" to send off (which, by the by, is a most horrific document: its actual title being Certification of Death and looking not unlike a car title in style and color, but saying much much worse. I can't help but to recoil in horror looking upon it and touching it, or worse, having to run to the bathroom to vomit, so I try not to look - though I must touch - while I quickly fold it and shove it into an envelope) -- this one goes to the insurance agent to take Bob's name off of our homeowner's policy. So much of this stuff strikes me as stupid and unnecessary.... I mean, do they really need an official certificate to take his name off the house insurance policy? jeepers...

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