I worry about what the cost of his (willed) cremation will really end up costing me. I had to pay upfront for it, and I still have not received any benefit money from Social Security.
I worry about the memorial.
I worry about rent, and other things, little and big.
I worry about how I will feel when more of his things are gone after this weekend when they are taken home by the people he wanted them to go to.
I worry I might enjoy having more space, and a chance to start to put the house the way I want.
I worry if I enjoy it, it means I am not missing him as I 'should'.
I worry about the week, and once my friends leave and my family too (temporary though it is) how lonely I will feel.
I worry about trying to find the right words for Saturday.
I worry about paperwork with DES and for my insurance.
I worry a lot about being poor.
I worry about my debts, and my husbands, and how they might effect me when I decide to go back to a school. I worry about working so hard, paying taxes, and still having to file for medical bankruptcy next year; depend on what the lawyer says.
I worry about the holidays, and feeling alone without him.
I worry about how much pain my heart hurts for this time right now; living alone for the first few years was a choice I made on my own. Living alone now is not by either of our wish.
I worry about waking up Christmas morning in a cold, empty, quiet house.
I worry about having no one to celebrate Hannukah with. I remember Wash working so hard to learn the Hebew prayers.
I worry about saying good-bye to him in a symbolic and final way.
I worry so much about my life is both the same and so unstructured; yet I'm not ready to change myself yet.
I worry about trying to communicate with the ones around me, and either not saying something that can be understood; or saying the wrong thing altogether.
I worry about how many people I will still have in my life next year.
I worry it is not acceptable to find moments to try to laugh.
I worry it is not acceptable if I don't laugh "more" now.
I worry about how confused I am that all I'm hearing is contradictions around me; specific advice on what to do at "this point"; specific advice to listen to no advice but my own wants.
I worry about the memories to come this week and month.
I worry about facing everything.
I worry so much about what will come next.
I worry how confused I am to feel so aged and mature, and so scared and young at the same time.
I worry how much I might forget about him.
Sometimes saying them lets them go. Sometimes not.