Productive day

Day 82: 05/22/2013 Entry

If you look at today through widow glasses, I guess you could say I got a lot accomplished. I received the life insurance paperwork weeks ago, but in those weeks, I only got as far as opening the letter, looking through the packet of papers, seeing words like “deceased’s social security number”, and breaking down. A few weeks ago I got a copy of the death certificate (it’s incomplete…no cause of death yet), since the insurance people want one, and that was another hard blow. I made myself sit there and read it for the first time; as I read the cold facts on that pretty piece of fancy paper, tears streamed down my face, and I still could not believe how any of this can be real. Wonderful people like Brandon don’t just die; it makes no sense to me. So today, as a completely random act, I sat down and filled out all of that paperwork. I didn’t cry, I didn’t feel sad, I seemed to have been on autopilot. I just did it. There was no emotion. It was weird.

I went to Autozone, bought a variety pack of fuses, and changed out one of them on the Miata. I asked one of the employees if anyone could put the fuse in for me, but then upon walking out of the door, I looked at the car, and realized that I don’t have Brandon anymore, I need to learn to do things for myself, without relying on anyone. That’s the sad lesson I’ve learned so far: it’s better to not rely on anyone for anything, to be self-sufficient and independent, because one day you can come home, and find your whole world smashed to pieces and scattered all over the floor, broken and bleeding. Since Brandon always did so much for me, took care of me, babied me, it has been especially hard to adjust to be completely alone. I have to figure out how to do things I never thought I would need to do, like changing out fuses in the car. But, I did it, and now the charging port works again (yay!).

Next, I went to the UPS Store and had copies made of all of the life insurance paperwork, just in case. I then went to Target and got some food, CDs, and cat food. When I got home, I packed up some of the kitchen downstairs, threw in a load of laundry, and washed the Miata. I am now tired, and about to crawl into bed, since I have to get up at the crack of dawn for work in the morning.

It still feels like a dream, 82 days later. It doesn’t seem real. I know he is dead and never coming back, but I can’t seem to UNDERSTAND that he is dead and never coming back. I still can barely remember what he looks like or our life together. I feel like day after day, I am just stumbling through heavy fog, doing things simply because of muscle memory, of routine, of habit.

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