Sighs

I really really dislike having to tell DES (again) that Wash is (still) dead.
Nope, has not come back. No awesome miracles like that!

I cannot understand why if I tell them I am widowed, and sent them copies of the Death Certificate about 2 weeks after he passed, they still have to ask me and verify he's dead.

WHO IN ARIZONA HAS DIED, GOTTEN A DEATH CERTIFICATE  AND THEN COME BACK TO LIFE TO APPLY FOR  MEDICAL BENEFITS?

I'm assuming this had to have happened to someone because I just cannot imagine why the state would like to traumatize people who have lost their spouse/child/dependent.


What annoys me even more is spending a crap-ton of phone minutes I can't really afford to talk to someone at DES and for 3 straight days get nothing but a busy signal. I call about every 10 minutes to check. From 8am-5pm.


So much to do, so overwhelmed, and so distracted.

I would also note to them that the asthma I have had for 16 or 17 years now has also not "cured" itself. That would be the "chronic" part of "chronic asthma".



Too much going on. I'm riled up.


I'm scared and nervous to leave, and at the same time, I cannot wait to be gone- even for just a 6 week term- from Arizona.

Speaking of, briefly, I'm about halfway to my needed goal to cover costs for Israel! My scholarships are helping out with some things, but I'm still doing the majority of this upfront out-of-pocket. But, I want this, and I know I'll be in a different place when I am done there for the summer. I don't know if it will be a "good" or "bad" different, but I know that I will change. I need some change. I need some personal growth time, some time not defined as "wife" "caregiver" "widow", but as "Tashi". Time to look at my future and maybe see something there for me.
The future hurts. Every day hurts. Every minute and second. It hurts to live without him. It hurts to know he is gone. It hurts to try, to have to remember who my love was; instead of knowing because he lives.
My thoughts, my hopes are that in a new place, around new people, a place defined by my own self- not "us"- thinking and looking at my future won't hurt as much.
It will always hurt. I know this. I knew it before.

But maybe, maybe, it will start to hurt less.