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Chores

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Dishes, vacuuming, putting things away, all those little things you need to do when you live somewhere.  All those land mines for missing someone.  You turn expecting to see him doing his half, but he’s not there and there is this flash of resentment, he’s supposed to be there helping.  Then you remember again he won’t ever help again and the wave hits you.  It is funny how easy it is to become accustomed to having someone there, sharing the workload, even if when he was alive you’d grumble about how you did 60% to his 40%, wow do you miss that 40%.

I’m a big girl, and I don’t need a man to do anything for me, I can change lights, deal with broken things, call a handyman.  But I never realized how much I enjoyed not having to worry about various things: taking out the trash, cleaning the toilets, doing dishes, grocery shopping.  Now, everything is back on my shoulders in a house that was too big for just two of us, and is huge for one person.  But – mortgage, bills, job – you do what needs doing, and keep reminding yourself no drastic changes for a year.  Because trust me, the desire to sell everything and run is very real.  However you can’t run from grief forever.  It tags along, waiting for you to think you are okay, then slams into you and once again your knees buckle.

Chores have to be done, and I’m doing them.  I’d rather be doing them with him, even if he only did 40%.

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