One year ago today I listed our house.
It had been on the market before she died so it didn’t feel like a major decision. After all it had been on the market for 2 years prior to my wife getting sick and I raised the price to make sure no one thought the new widower was just dumping the property and running away ( although I wasn’t sure myself if that might not be the case).
To my surprise, it sold in less than 2 months.
So not only was I scheduled for a month long cruise around South America, but before I could do that, I had to pack up the contents of our house in just 6 short weeks.
Two people sorting and packing might be difficult. One person packing is really hard. And one person packing and dealing with 52 years of memories and memorabilia on their own is get wrenching and close to chaos.
It got complicated by the fact that once back from South America, I had not the faintest idea of where I might live.
My journey through the “valley of death” had been 4 months of caregiving followed by 3 months of dealing with the grief and aftermath and now it was taking on significant new challenges.
I have written over 40,000 words to date on dealing with family and friends and community and the callous corporate insensitivity to those who deal with death.
I intend to periodically share these things with those who have gone before me on this unwanted journey in the hope to both learn and perhaps inspire those who might want to read my story.
12 months after I listed my house, I live in a wonderful 1 bedroom apartment on a wharf overlooking a picturesque town. Thuis the blog “Quai la vie!” which means life on the wharf or simply wharf life.
So much has changed that one might think I have a life “reinvented” and that it is very good.
If so, why do I so frequently think about my deceased wife and what we had and what we dreamt for in the future?
Moving on is not so much reinvention as it is adapting to a new reality.