Flat tire





I did about five million things this week and it's only Wednesday. It's the Wednesday of Spring break and we tried to make the most of our vacation by going out of town. Twice. Yes it's only Wednesday.  So it's hard to figure out what of those five million tings I should blog about (I didn't have good internet access so I didn't do it at the moment.)

Really it boils down to the same old thing, Dan's still dead. I miss him. We went out with friends this evening. They wanted to know how our spring break was and how my new job was going. I told them. I fought back the urge to say "and also Dan's still dead."  They know Dan's still dead. They've known just as long as I have that he died. Yet I want to tell them, you know least they forget, maybe they will think he's at work, maybe I need to remind them that he's dead. I don't. They know, they didn't forget, my logical brain knows that they know and yet something in me (my crazy widow brain) compels me to want to tell them. Not just them but anyone. "Yup had a great day, went to a movie with friends, Dan's still dead" Just tac it on to the end of the sentence, I don't even really know why, so you don't think that I forgot I guess. Believe me I did not forget.

Everything we do ends with 'Dan's Dead.'  On Saturday we drove about an hour away to a little touristy town with my siblings to do little touristy things for my brothers birthday.  Baby Girl, my sister, my brother in law, and I were in my car and went to find some lunch. To make a long story short I got a flat tire. To make it longer my brother in law was unable to put the spare tire on and we had to get it towed to a tire store. I asked my brother in law to come with me so he could explain to the tire store exactly what the problem was. I love my brother in law but I wish Dan were dealing with all this and not him and I. We get to the tire store, it is a big chain, all our information is still under Dan' name and Dan's phone number. I've asked them to change it before, it seems they didn't. I was in no mood to say "look my husband has been dead for two years and two months and two weeks could you please take his name off our account." So I just let it go. Then they call his name when they need to talk to us about the car, yup thats me over here, no this is my brother in law not Dan, Dan's dead.  Ok I didn't say that out loud but I wanted to.

Then it gets fun. The tire guy quoted me an extremely high price. Then I don't even know what happened, my brother in law looked at him sideways and maybe shook his head slightly, maybe. The tire guy said he'd be back, he came back with a lower price. My brother in law did the same look and maybe a slight nod and the tire guy went away again. When he came back the next time he handed us the key and said "all fixed no charge"  Uh wait, what just happened, my brother in law didn't even say anything. They wanted to charge me a million dollars and now it's free. I do not understand. So this naturally pisses me off, because it felt very sexist and very cheated. If I hadn't of had him with me I would have spent a ton of unnecessary money. Yet another thing that makes me go 'seriously it's 2017 and I need a husband to not get cheated with cars'. This naturally makes me mad at Dan yet again for being dead. The ironic thing is Dan and I knew exactly the same amount of stuff about cars: You put gas in them and they go vroom vroom. Good car. So I kinda think if Dan were here we would have ended up spending all that money anyway cause we know nothing about cars. Yet I'm mad at him for not being here. For putting me in that spot, because I have to deal with it. Because for the 10,000 time I had to ask my brother in law for help because Dan is dead.

Thats just one thing, one little thing, to most people a flat tire is a minor inconvenience. To me it makes me realize for the zillionth time how lost I feel without Dan. How much I depended on Dan. How much I need Dan. How much I miss Dan.

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

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Milestones in grief

PTSD is not for sissys

My therapist told me to start a blog