Ordering the life I'll lead

I suppose I've always been one to clean, organize, and minimize when faced with a challenge.  If my mind or emotions aren't organized, at least maybe my house and possessions can be.  So this is what I'm doing now--organizing not only my mom's items, the detritus of her estate sale, but also Pete's possessions.  In so doing, I'm finding I'm rearranging my own life possessions and furniture and myself. So yesterday, my first full day without anyone by my side since Pete's passing, I figured I'd better start with the basics--paying the funeral home bill, contacting life/health insurance, etc.  Turns out I need the death certificate, of course, to file Pete's life insurance claim, but that certificate is delayed.  The last cultures from the autopsy aren't yet ready, and I'm assuming they want full disclosure of all conditions before issuing a death certificate.

I'm returning items that are unopened--ones only Pete used.  A box of Depends put $42 back on my Visa.  And I have 8 of his "white grape" flavored bottles of water and miscellaneous eye drops, etc. to return to Walmart.  I could go through my last few months of receipts to validate my purchasing these things, but first I'll try returning them without, for it would take me about an hour to find exactly the right receipt for each item.

I stopped by Verizon and disconnected Pete's cell number from our account.  Initially the gal said we'd pay a early termination fee of $130, since our contract wasn't over until October, but then civility set in and she waived the fee.  So now, we're $40 cheaper/month on the cell bill.

On my way home from Verizon, I scouted out a local consignment shop for the possibility of helping us sell mom's items left over from the sale last week, as well as fall clothes of mom's and those from Pete's closet and drawers.  Looked promising, and today I'm bringing in a few things for the owner to look at.

But since Becky's boutique, Between Friends, was nearby, I couldn't help but pop in there to see what was new.  For some reason all level-headedness leaves me when I walk in there, and the girl who never buys anything at full retail ends up with a $150 purchase.  And that was the case yesterday.  Three pieces, all black, all comfy, and all I really didn't need.

But it was last night as I sat on my bed watching TV, a bit giddy over my new purchases, that I suddenly realized Pete would never see me wearing them.  For some reason I instantly became so sad.  Such a silly thing to tear up over, yet it's just one of those many discoveries that I'll be adjusting to, I'm sure.  Usually I'd check with Pete to see what he thought of my clothing purchases, especially the pants.  He'd gladly give his opinion as to whether my butt looked decent in them or not, since, for some reason, that part of my anatomy was one of his favorites.

So it wasn't paying the funeral bill or deactiving Pete's cell that got to me yesterday.  It was rather missing Pete's thumbs-up or thumbs-down on my clothes, ones he'll never see me wear.