Where's the widow box?

I bought a house today.

Yes I did.

I don't get the keys until tomorrow so it doesn't really feel real, but I went into a office today and signed my name 5,000 times.

Buying a house is an odd experience. It's even odder when it feels wrong.  This is a great little house and I love it and I am excited to move in. I am going to live there until I'm 95, wherein I will die and leave it to baby girl. But its wrong like the whole last 19 months have been wrong. It's without Dan. I just bought a house today without my husband and that feels wrong.

I walked into that office today all by myself, not holding my husbands hand, not giddy with excitement, not looking over at him and smiling.  I got there and they said "are you here to close on a house" "yes" I replied "just you" "Yes" I reply as I look down at my wedding ring, it's just me.

The lady makes small talk with me "have you lived in Oregon your whole life?" "Yes except we went to college in Idaho" we I said we, shes probably wondering who the we is. Does she notice my wedding ring. does she wonder why I'm here buying a house without my husband. She doesn't ask that would be unprofessional.

The first page describes the buyer. i.e. John Doe a married man. Mine said my full name and then after it "a single woman" uh but wait I'm not single, I'm married, kind of, don't I even get to check the widow box this time. Never thought I would actually prefer the widow box but at least it's better then single, at least it's an explanation of where he is.

She asks to see my drivers license, I give it to her and say, "but thats my old address, we're living with my in-laws right now until we buy this house" there it is again we, in-laws, all signs of being married. I look down at my wedding ring.

More small talk, she asks me something I can't remember and I can't take it anymore, no more pretending. "my husband died last year and my daughter and I moved in with his parents and now i'm buying a house all by myself" I look down at my wedding ring. She gives the usual condolences and we get to signing papers.

One page was I had to sign my signature next to every variation of my name the government had on record. I signed my name using my middle initial. I signed my name writing out my full middle name, I signed my name with my maiden name, something I had not done in 16 years, so that was odd. I signed my name with my maiden name and my middle initial.

Now she feels she should reassure me I guess. note she is not the first person to tell me this, "Good for you! This is a great accomplishment buying a house all by yourself. This will be a great new start for you" I say "thank you" and smile and nod. That is the proper response, It is not the response going on in my head, that response goes something like: "why is this good, why is it good to leave the house you had with your husband, why is a new start good, I don't want a new start, I want my old life back, the one where I lived with the love of my life, not the one where I have to live alone and do everything without him. How is that good. As for accomplishment, I didn't accomplish anything. I didn't buy this house on my own, I was able to buy this house because I used the life insurance I got from my husband dying to make a really big down payment. So basically i only have this house because Dan died, because if he hadn't we wouldn't be here right now"  see smiling and nodding is a much more appropriate response.

Next to every signature I did was a blank spot for the co-borrower to sign. Dan's signature wasn't there next to mine. Really his signature should be first and I should be listed as the co-borrower.  But it's not.

Tomorrow I get the keys to my new house. It's a fixer so there's tons of work to be done. I am excited, I like projects, baby girl is getting a mermaid themed room. Family is coming over for a champagne toast. I get to decorate however I want, I get to paint however I want, I get to put the furniture however I want. Funny how those things sound good and awful all at the same time.


I wrote a book about my grief, you can read it here: Carry on Castle