TheBanyanTree: Nine Months Later

[Margaret R. Kramer]

1/30/04
I do not know but if I ever meet her I will do uncountable things with her!
 Love you
 Ray

I received a letter from Ray’s 401k plan’s administrator.  Since he’s no
longer employed by his company, they wanted him to make a decision about
what do with his money.  It’s a meager amount that’s left, even without the
market crashing.  We used a lot of it in the past to pay off bills.

I called the company, since I wasn’t sure what to do since Ray was dead.
She said all I needed was to send in a copy of his death certificate along
with a form she would send me, and they would send me the distribution.

I got the form right away.  I looked through my papers to find a death
certificate, I couldn’t find any.  I found our birth certificates, marriage
certificates (from both our marriages!), and our divorce decrees, but no
death certificates.  I must have used them all, although I don’t remember
doing so.

I looked up the service center on the internet.  I had to pick up the death
certificates in person.  I needed to have proper ID.  The office’s hours
were from 7:30 – 4:30 pm on week days.

Joe offered to drive me downtown Minneapolis and then circle around until I
was done.  When he dropped me off at the corner, I went into the “grief
 fog.”  The fog is kind of like I felt when Ray first died.  Nothing makes
any sense and I was aware that life was skittering by, but it didn’t mean
anything to me.

I could barely find my way to the service center.  I remember going down an
escalator.  I remember walking by a cafeteria.  I remember people walking by
me.  But I wasn’t part of it.  I was dead inside.  Maybe I was going to get
a copy of my own death certificate.

The man who helped me was very nice.  I got five copies of Ray’s death
certificate and I also used the occasion to change the flower van’s title
from Ray’s name into mine.  I need to do the same with the Volkswagen.  I
will . . . I just forgot the VW title this time.

I called Joe on the cell phone and told him I was ready to meet on the
corner.  Then I looked at the death certificates.  I read the cause of
death, “severe sepsis due to methicillin-sensitive staphylocococcus areus
bacteremia.”  In other words, Ray was dead.

And then all of a sudden, I was pin-wheeling back to the day Ray died.  Back
to when he was sick.  Back to when I should have done more for him.  I felt
like the outfielder who misjudges a crucial fly ball and watches helplessly
as the ball falls in the grass just a few feet away.  If only I made a
better judgment about the severity of his illness.  If only I would have
pushed him to the doctor sooner.  If only I was a better nurse.  If only I
could have loved him more than I did, then maybe he would still be alive.  I
missed catching the ball and Ray was dead.

The tears started flowing and I was sobbing as I waited for Joe pick me up.
I finally got it under control just as Joe pulled up to the corner.  I don’t
think he knew anything was wrong.  Or sometimes I think he knows I had a
little griefburst, but he chooses to ignore it.  And that’s OK.  Those
little bursts do not demand attention.  They come on suddenly and disappear
just as quickly.

Joe and I went to the cemetery this afternoon.  There are more Christmas
wreaths on the graves.  Joe is thinking about getting Ray a wreath.  He
looked carefully at the stands and the types of wreaths on the graves.  Joe
worked in funeral services many years ago, plus he was a mortician.  If you
want to hear some good embalming stories, let me know.  Joe knows all the
ropes when it comes to cemetery services.  Ray would want a small wreath, a
simple one.

Next week, I’ll take off all the fall stuff on Ray’s grave.  I have flowers,
peeps, a black cat, a small pumpkin, and candy surrounding.  Plus, I leave
stones when I bring nothing else with me.  I’ll look for wreaths at
Michaels.  I also need to get my grandparents some holiday flowers.

Nine months later, I’m coming out of the fog.  I miss Ray more than ever,
but my brain is slowly realizing he’s gone.  I’m in love with another man.
My concentration is getting better.  My focus is coming back.  I’m looking
forward to the holidays, as I build new traditions, but I’ll still keep Ray
in my heart.

Margaret R. Kramer
margaretkramer at comcast.net
margaret.kramer at polarispublications.com
www.polarispublications.com

For what is it to die,
But to stand in the sun and melt into the wind?
~Kahlil Gibran
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