Saturday, August 10, 2013

Day 65


August 10, 2013

Day 65

I seriously am not paid enough for my job as city clerk.  I was just getting the girls down for their nap today and then had every intention of feeding my growling stomach and heading down to Walmart for a few things.  I got a knock at the door.  The lackey of a landlord who owns two houses here in town needed the water turned on at their latest acquisition.  That was ok – he had asked for this 10 days ago and I had told our water commissioner.  So, I called the water guy, who is camping at the State Fair, and he exclaimed, “Oh, no – I forgot to do that!”  He volunteered to run down and do it.  I told him I’d take care of it.  I ran up to City Hall, found the key to the padlock, went to the property, and unlocked the water.  Then, I couldn’t get the lever to move that would turn the water on.  Try as I might, it would not budge.  Ugh.  Seeing work trucks in the driveway, I pounded on the front door, hoping someone would have a wrench I could use.  Nobody was around.  I got in my van, drove home, grabbed a pliers, and came back.  I got the water turned on.  It immediately began spraying water everywhere.  Hmmm….pretty sure it’s not supposed to do that.  I knew if I left it like that the landlord would soon have a pit full of water and an expensive bill.  I turned off the water and  made some phone calls.  I ended up going back up to City Hall and calling a plumber who was in the middle of a water main break but thought he could make it tomorrow.  Then, the mayor reminded me there was a balance on this landlord’s account.  So, I had to make some more phone calls, letting them know about the plumbing situation and the balance due – both of which would affect my ability to get their water going.  Seriously – this is just supposed to be a bookwork job!  I think I broke at least one nail.  Guess my vacation is officially over…

Lizzie asked Will to remove her training wheels today.  I was a little dubious, but she was insistent.  The girl is flying down the alley now.  She knew she was ready!

On our way home yesterday I stopped and picked up our mail at the post office.  Included in the pile was Paul’s autopsy report.  I had forgotten I had requested that.  It was interesting but hard reading at the same time.  They autopsied everything, it seems like.  They even weighed his lungs and noted how many grams each they were!  They commented on his “well-taken-care of teeth” which made me smile.  I’m so glad we didn’t spend the money to get his remaining wisdom teeth removed – or that crown put on the dentist kept recommending.  The report just seemed so impersonal, like I was reading a medical report.  I guess I was.  I had to keep reminding myself as I read that this was Paul they were talking about – my husband, my lover, my best friend – and not just this body on the slab they were carefully dissecting. 

Before we left for camp, our supervising teacher called.  I don’t need one this year, thanks to changes in the state homeschooling laws, but she was calling to express her condolences, as well as to let me know she was available if I needed her for anything.  She told me that one of her children experiences seizures and their neurologist told them that seizures have a cumulative effect.  Even if a particular seizure is not that severe it is compounding brain damage each time.  I did not know that.  Wonder why none of Paul’s neurologists never mentioned that to us?

Of course, the reason Paul died was that he asphyxiated.  Had he seized on his back, like normal, he probably would not have died.  Had he seized and fallen face-forward as a 22 year old I would have lost him 20 years ago instead of now.  Well, I can imagine all kinds of different scenarios and second-guess everything until I’m blue in the face (ok, not a good reference, given the circumstance), but it doesn’t matter.  His day of death was planned for June 6, 2013 and nothing was going to change that.

I started cleaning out Paul’s side of the closet last night.  He had more clothes than I realized.  I had to go buy some big tubs today just to hold them.  I found some more of his work jeans, too, belonging to Loziers.  Oops.  I feel like it is time to start cleaning him up a little.  My old office is filled with all kinds of stuff related to the funeral and I want to get it all organized and figure out where and how I’m going to store things that I want to keep.  A friend is making quilts out of his clothing so I need to get that to her.  I was doing ok.  And then I found his well-worn fleece, camo-printed bathrobe hanging on the hook where he had last hung it this spring.  Oomph.  That hurt. Every evening and morning he wore that thing.  Every single winter morning I would see him sitting by the woodburner in that robe, feet propped up on top, while he read his Bible.  He put that robe on and took it off several times each cold winter night when he woke up to tend the fire.   I buried my nose into the fabric and could still smell him.  The familiar pain cut like a lash.  I had to stop for a little bit.  But I’m still going.  This needs to be done.  I know some people don’t ever do it, but I sense this clear directive that it is time.  Bit by bit, I am letting Paul go.  Plus, the thought of doubling my closet space does have some appeal!  I know, I know – the merry widow, indeed…

At camp this week they had us doing family devotions from the book of James.  Chapter 1, verse 2 caught my attention: “My brothers, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience.”  I’ve heard that verse thousands of times, but have always assumed that “trials” referred to being persecuted for one’s faith.  But I happened to read McArthur’s notes and he explains that word as this:

This Greek word connotes trouble, or something that breaks the pattern of peace, comfort, joy, and happiness in someone’s life.  The verb form of this word means “to put someone or something to the test” with the purpose of discovering that person’s nature or that thing’s quality.  God brings such tests to prove and increase the strength and quality of one’s faith and to demonstrate its validity.


Huh…I’m sensing some application here!  Just a little, anyway...







































1 comment:

  1. Good to hear how camp was and how things are going.
    Many hugs and prayers to you, Sarah