About Me

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Five years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!

Monday, March 18, 2013

How I found the truck title.

I was looking for my copy of The Plan B Workbook. I wanted to collect all my banking information in one place. So I walked out to the living room and looked at the table where I last remembered seeing it. Not there.

Then I looked at the top layer which has accumulated on top of the coffee table. Not there either, and probably not in one of the lower layers either.

I turned my attention to a box that is wedged between the coffee table and the entertainment center. Books, mostly, and a very large, very dead bug, and a sheaf of papers. Medical receipts. Stuff pertaining to Beloved's treatment at the facility we fired. And just below that a blue-bordered piece of paper. Could it be? It was.

I had commented to more than one friend at the wedding or the reception that while it was nice (if a little unnerving) to feel Beloved's presence there, what I really needed was for him to tell me where he'd put the title.

Thank you, honey. I am so grateful for a husband who is as thoughtful and helpful after death as you were in life.

1 comment:

Tola said...

i wonder if my dad has done similar things for my mom. it almost feels too sacred to ask her.