One of the real joys of losing your spouse is that for the
most part you, and only you, can close out their life. Even if you have the greatest friends
in the world like I do, it’s nearly impossible for them to handle it. I would later find some resources and
lists with instructions on how to close out someone’s life but when I started
doing it one week after Gordie’s death, I was making my own lists. Gordie and I had wills and trusts in
place before his passing but in hindsight, we were not entirely prepared for an
unexpected death. There were a lot
of loose ends that are probably typical of healthy people in their 40s who are
not expecting to die early. Closing
out Gordie’s life would take years.
I ended up doing the most important stuff in those first few months and
then I was so sick of everything death related, I just stopped and took a multi
year break. Truthfully, 4.5 years
later, I am still not done.
I ended up taking three weeks off from work after Gordie
died but I was working 80 hour weeks taking care of my sons, searching for a
Nanny to care for them when I went back to work, and closing Gordie’s
life. I would be on my computer
into the wee hours of the morning making lists, filling out forms, and researching
information on how to do things. It
was exhausting and mentally torturous.
The Coroner released a temporary death certificate fairly
quickly. It was temporary because
of the investigation into how Gordie actually died. The cause of death section said "to be determined." I was able to use this temporary certificate to do almost
everything that needed to be done.
I made an appointment at Social Security as soon as I had
the temporary death certificate. Luckily
they were able to fit me in within a few days. I walked into the office with my “death folder”, as I called
it, and sat in the waiting room. I
looked around at the people in the waiting room and wondered why they were
here. Then I started thinking do they wonder what I’m doing here? Can they tell by my face that my
husband died?
My name was called and a woman led me to her desk. She asked how she could help me.
“My husband died”, I replied.
Her face was expressionless. “I’m sorry”, she said.
Then, with barely a pause “do you have a death certificate?”
I handed it to her.
She started typing away on her computer. Then she started asking questions.
“Do you have kids?" she asked.
“Yes”.
“How many?” she asked.
“Two”
“What are their ages?”
“Six and two”
“What are their full names?”
I gave them to her.
“Was Gordon their biological or adopted Father?”
“Yes, biological”, I said while thinking. are you shitting me?
“Do you work?”
“Yes”
“What is your salary?”
I told her.
“You will not qualify for surviving spouse benefits other
than a one time payment of $250”, she said.
“OK. Why?” I asked
“Because of your income. It’s too high”.
What I would learn later is that if a surviving spouse makes
about $20 a year in our fabulous country, you don’t qualify for surviving
spouse benefits. I felt like
telling her that I would be paying nearly $50K/year for a Nanny so that I could
continue to do my job and on top of that would be paying for housing, food, clothing, benefits, and
other needs ON MY FUCKING OWN. But
I kept my mouth shut.
“But you will get surviving children’s benefits” she
said.
“OK. How much
is that?” I asked.
“I have to figure it out”, she said. The amount she later gave me was
nothing to get excited about.
Let’s just say that in the area where I live, social security benefits
are a mere fraction of what most women of divorce are getting in child
support…even if they have joint custody.
She kept on typing and eventually started printing out
documents. She placed them in
front of me.
At the top of the first page, in fairly big font, the words
“Marriage Ended in Death” screamed
out at me.
I have never been sucker punched but I have taken a ball to
the gut several times through my years of playing soccer. At that moment, I felt like I had taken
a ball to the gut. The breath was
knocked out of me.
Marriage Ended in
Death? My marriage ended? I’m not married?
I was stunned. Not once in the 12 days since Gordie
passed had anyone told me that I was not legally married anymore. Not once had the notion even crossed my
mind.
The Social Security
Lady is the one who breaks the news to me that I am not actually married
anymore? Are you fucking kidding me?
The little fire pit of anger that was now permanently in my
belly ignited. I looked down at my wedding ring on my left hand as my fists
were clenching. I then literally
sat on my clenched fists to prevent myself from thrusting my left hand in the
Social Security lady’s face and screaming “you see that Bitch? That’s a wedding ring. I am married! I will always be married to Gordie. Fuck you!”
I don’t remember anything more she told me during that
meeting. At the end, I just added
the forms she gave me to the Death Folder and walked to my car. I drove home dazed, sad, and
pissed. When I got home, my Mom
had things with Wyatt under control.
She looked at my face. I
just rolled my eyes and said, “I need to run”. She nodded.
I ripped off my sweats, put my running clothes on and laced
up my shoes. I grabbed my iPod and
took off out the door. As I ran, I
did not see the road in front of me.
All I could see were those words “Marriage Ended in Death”.