...and some days are
I was recently asked by a relatively new widow whether *this* gets better.
Well ..... thinking back over time, I can honestly say there have been ups and downs but on the whole, I cope with everything better now that the shock has worn off.
.... but then, there will come a day like today when it all comes crashing down in full technicolour glory.
Firstly - our new State government is in the process of axing 20,000 public service jobs. My contract will be part of the collateral damage. I will be a 6-week contract away from permanency when it all ends in December.
To top that off, I have a tax bill for the first time ever. I am still to see any of the money I apparently made that wasn't gobbled up by my investment advisor, but I still get to pay the tax. Yippee.
Then of course, there is my ongoing insurance debacle with an insurer who thinks I waited too long before seeking financial compensation for Greg's death (because that's the first thing recently bereaved people think of apparently - not shock and grief and how they are meant to keep breathing in and out .... but how much money they can claim). <----- sarcasm.
...and then today, I decided to visit Greg's grave. I don't often go there, but decided I needed to this morning.
....and I found that the little solar light the kids and I had left there in March is gone. ....and a suspiciously similar one has appeared on a neighbouring grave.
I did not move it back because a) I am a decent human being and b) I can never be sure it is the same one.
But I would like a pointed word or two with the person who decided to move it.
....and I'm sitting here, wondering just how much more I can take before I lose the plot completely.
Surely I've served my time for my crimes (whatever they were).
Surely I can play a widow card here and get some relief from this seemingly ceaseless barrage of problems.
But life doesn't work that way.
So this week, sorry - I just can't hold out my hands to help other people up, but instead, hold out my arms in the hope that a lifeline will appear from somewhere else.
But rest assured, as soon as I manage to get both legs back under me and stand up again, I'll be here, helping other people find the solid ground.