They say if you want something bad enough, anything is possible. I was recently put to the test when trying to close on my condo and I’d like to share my experience with you. Hopefully, I can enhance your education on home buying, but if nothing else, I will help you from making the same mistake I made by choosing Truist Bank years ago in Florida. (It started out as BB&T when we opened our account and merged with SunTrust. In 2019 they settled as Truist.)

As most of you know, my Husband passed away in January leaving me behind in our Florida home. With absolutely no family and only a handful of friends there, this quickly became a very lonely existence. Not to mention, the entire work load of a yard and pool were added to my indoor daily tasks. I know you’re not supposed to make life-changing decisions for at least six months to a year, but do you know what it’s like to pull weeds, lay mulch, trim bushes and rake debris in humid 90+ degrees? I was changing underwear 3 times a day for crying out loud before jumping in the shower just to prevent swamp @ss!

So long story short, I made the decision to move back north where my family and life-long friends are before I even found a place to live. I made arrangements to use PODS for moving everything I own so that it could remain stored until the day I need it. They also offer military discount even to surviving spouses, so I also saved a little money.

Luckily for me, I found exactly what I was looking for before I made the move- a three bedroom two bath condo home in a nice community and in my price range. This made moving north more comfortable in my brain knowing I would not be imposing on family indefinitely or having to rent an apartment and make two moves.

I immediately reached out to my mortgage rep and asked how quickly she could get me pre approved so that I could have my sisters go with my northern realtor to see and video the condo. Kathy Morris at Prime Lending assured me that if I quickly got her the info required that I could be approved that same day. I made the call to my realtor and she had the appointment with one of my sisters to see the house the following day. Within twenty four hours I was ready to make an offer over asking price on a condo I only saw through the eyes of my sister. Suddenly, the condo went off market and I was shocked.

My realtor found out that the seller became ill with pneumonia and could not show her place. About a week later (after everyone else in the area also saw it listed), it came back on the market and we were ready to make the offer, but so were many others.

If you are not familiar with an aggressive seller’s market, there is very little chance that an offer will be accepted when you have a house to sell (known as a contingency) or up against an offer with an escalation clause (unless you have plenty of money to join the automatic bidding war), or up against a cash deal (saves everyone time). I lost that condo to a cash deal.

In the meantime, my house in Florida was soon on the market and under contract, and I too, accepted a cash deal with an escalation clause- giving me an over asking price deal. This enhanced my chances to make the next offer stick because I had more cash to put towards a house and a contingency becomes less risky with a set closing date.

The next condo that came up was even better than the first and they accepted my offer. BINGO! I was now orchestrating a move out of one place with a closing in Florida and a trip north to close on another.

This is pretty ordinary, right? People relocate all the time and do exactly the same thing. So what makes my situation any different? Well here’s where it gets a little tricky.

I had an all expenses paid trip planned to Wisconsin long before my house sold to dog sit for great friends, enabling them to sail around the British Virgin Islands (BVI). You don’t cancel something like this if you have integrity and I pride myself on exactly that. I fulfil my commitments. This should not be an issue because they do what is referred to as “remote closings” all the time. A third party Title company or Notary just has to witness you signing your lender closing package and you sign many things electronically on your computer since the days of Covid. My friend in Wisconsin hooked me up with a Title company nearby and that problem was quickly solved. Everyone was onboard.

Before I left Florida, I wrapped up all my financial issues and transferred utilities to the new owners successfully. This included closing a joint checking and savings account I once had with Roger and asking some questions in regards to my closing in Ohio on the new condo. I explained the situation and the banker assured me that a wire transfer would not be a problem. She even explained a few new CD programs that Truist was offering on a 7 month CD at 5% interest that I might like. We exchanged pleasantries and I left my bank for the last time.

I already shared my crazy experiences driving home in the pouring rain in my last blog, so I will fast forward to my closing in Wisconsin.

My friends are now safely traveling to the BVI for a wonderful sailing excursion. I am what I refer to as “Fake Mom” to their golden doodle and getting used to him telling me what he wants me to do. (snickering) He’s a bit spoiled and has already wrapped me around his big paws.

Closing day arrived on Thursday, I entered the address on my phone, and off I go to the Title company. I was a bit early and we started a little before 11:00am. The notary’s name was Shelley and she was a wonderful person. She expressed how she could feel my excitement and very happy for me. After everything was signed before 11:30am, she was required to fax everything to the Ohio title company so they could review and confirm that everything was completed before I left her office. I was handed the wire transfer information and asked Shelley if I could conduct the phone call while in her office in case they had any questions, and I could use her fax for signatures, if needed.

Let the fun begin.

I called Truist and was speaking to a banker (not a teller). She immediately informed me that I would have to physically come in and sign to do the wire transfer. I started to explain to her the situation.

Keep in mind as you’re reading this that I was an Account Executive during my lengthy career. I do not get upset with people on the phone easily because I have dealt with folks on the phone my entire life. Usually, they just don’t understand the situation completely, and simply react before they think. It’s worse, of course, if you have an inexperienced employee on the phone.

Let me share the initial conversation with you to the best of my recollection using the name Michelle for the banker:

“Hi Michelle. My name is Lorraine (last name) and I am at “B” Title Co. in Wisconsin signing closing paperwork for my new home. I have just been handed the wire transfer information and need to speak with the proper person to initiate the transfer of funds.” Michelle says “Oh we can’t do a wire transfer over the phone! You will have to come in and do it in person so we can get your signature.”

I said “Perhaps you can get me to the proper person so I can explain the situation. I am relocating and I have already moved out of the state of Florida. I spoke to…” She interrupts and says “I’m sorry, but anyone you speak to is going to tell you the same thing. We don’t do wire transfers over the phone.” I said “If you would let me explain please, I am sitting in a Title company with a notary and if you fax me whatever form needs my signature, she will notarize it and send it back with two forms of ID. That is why I am calling my Truist branch while I am sitting here with her.” Again, she says “We can’t do a wire transfer without you being here.”

I respond “How can anyone relocate to another state and initiate a wire transfer? Military people do this all the time.” Michelle says “I don’t know about other banks, but Truist’s policy is absolutely no wire transfers unless you’re standing here in person.” I answer “Well that is not what I was told when I was there before I left the state. I am closing on a house in Ohio and was told by a banker in my branch that there would not be a problem. She also informed me that there was no Truist branches anywhere near my future location, but it still could be done.” Michelle responds “Who told you that?” I said “I don’t have her card on me but it’s the girl in the middle cubical that I met with.”

I proceeded to say “Please connect me with someone in a higher position than yours. Is there a manager or supervisor I can speak to?” Her answer was “Yes, but they are going to tell you exactly the same thing as I just told you. You can’t do a wire transfer.”

I get a Supervisor on the phone and start at the very beginning. She agrees that I am in a difficult situation because they don’t do wire transfers on the phone and confirmed there are no locations anywhere near me. I said to her “Are you telling me that I would have to get back to Florida in order to close on a house in Ohio?” Her answer was, “Well, there might be one closer than Florida. Hold on while I check.” She then responds that she found one in Cincinnati and Columbus, OH. I said “Well, I am in Wisconsin and there has to be a better way.”

By the time we went round for round- me searching for solutions and her shooting each and every one down, I was back to square one. She basically told me “I hope your day gets better” and said goodbye.

The Notary also did everything in her power to resolve this now very pathetic situation. She called the Ohio title company to explain the circumstances and they confirmed that they must receive funds by wire transfer only and a check of any sort would not do- even though funds were verified.

I could bore you to tears if I continue with this explanation. It just got worse with everyone I spoke to, each confirming they could not help me. I was at the title company nearly 4 hours and nothing got resolved. My notary hugged me and said “I don’t know how you didn’t lose it with those people. You are very professional.” I thanked her and I drove to my temporary home with tears welling up in my eyes thinking how terribly I was treated by my own bank. A criminal could steal my money more easily than me getting it out of this bank!

I spent the evening emailing and updating everyone involved and seeking solutions to the problem. No one had any. I ended my day with the thought that I will walk away from this deal before I cave in and fly to Florida.

My sister called me and when she learned of the situation offered me assistance. My Florida realtor offered to help if I could appoint her POA (Power of Attorney). But nothing was going to happen that night and I started fresh at it again in the morning after a sleepless night.

I spoke with everyone within my bank that I could (Branch Manager was on her honeymoon, but a banker called all the way to the top). No one would authorize a wire transfer. No one would help me.

With all the suggestions, none of them held up. POA would take too long with many approvals needed. I could not physically get to Florida. They would not accept a verified check. I could not open a new account and pull my money out of Truist and wire from a new bank in time. They would not accept a cashier’s check- nor could I obtain one from a new bank. No one else could pay it without “gifting” me the funds, requiring major changes to the lending paperwork and starting all over costing money. It just went on and on and on.

Finally, I sent an email to all parties involved. I voiced my frustration with all the banking institution’s rules and regulations. Everyone knows I have verified funds. Everyone knew I’d be in Wisconsin. Everyone knows if someone else wires the money that it’s NOT a gift. Everyone knows the deal is going to fall apart and two lives will be negatively impacted. So let’s stop right here and pull our resources together and get this deal done before I am forced to walk away. I firmly but professionally said “I am running out of ideas.” My sister was offering to wire the money for me and I would pay her back. Period.

And so it went down exactly that way. I overnighted a personal check to my sister with proof that it was not a gift and she wired the money. A letter explaining why we did it this way was sent to the Ohio Title company. The wire was received Friday and confirmed by 4pm. End of story.

So….my advice to anyone that made it to the end of this blog without putting a fork in their eye:

Stay away from Truist Bank! They basically held my money hostage and would not let me close on my house. They apologized that the banker that said “it wouldn’t be a problem must have misunderstood your question”. Basically standing behind their employee and leaving their customer stranded up the creek without a paddle! Also leaving a seller without funds for her assisted living arrangement! How dare a bank treat people like this, yet they do all the time!

Sorry, but I digress.

Try to stay positive, as hard as it may be, because you can’t resolve anything by accusing, cussing or blaming when in the middle of negotiations. Everything I said on the phone was true, and I was frustrated at times, but never treated anyone like an idiot- even when I wanted to! I could have walked away and given up, but I didn’t. I have come too far to just give up!

My family and my friends supported me and encouraged me and I never gave up.

The funds transfer Monday and my realtor will get the keys on Tuesday in my absence. I will now be moving into a beautiful condo, and knowing how hard I had to fight for it, will just make it that much sweeter when I do!

A special thanks to my sister and her ex husband for getting the funds transferred and I can’t wait to celebrate when I get home! In the meantime, I am enjoying being Fake Mom to my favorite Doodle dog while my best friends enjoy sailing the BVI.

Sail on my friends…Sail on!

The last time I wrote, I was in a decision-making mode with uncertainty and emotional highs and lows. Hurricanes or snow was the question. A lot has happened since I pondered that decision.

The truth of the matter is; I desired to be around my friends and family more than I needed Florida. Roger and I settled there together and were a “We” instead of a “Me.” It didn’t work for me anymore, and as many of my followers know, I put my house on the market just before the weekend, and it was under contract by that Sunday afternoon.

I put a lot of sweat and tears into the Florida home, but it was getting the usual super hot and humid every day, and I couldn’t help but want to get the hell out of there! I had my air conditioner poop out on me once, and I prayed after getting it fixed, it would outlast my time there and serve the new owners well. It did.

I made all these decisions after getting a very clear message in my head one day- like a bolt of lightning striking me- that the time to sell was now. Everyone tells a Widow that you should not make any major decisions in the first year after losing your spouse. I can certainly understand why people say that, but no one holds the crystal ball, and you have to follow your heart and your gut when it’s yelling at you to do something. I am also stronger than most people because I have stared disaster in the face more than once- and lived to tell. The fact of the matter is, the sellers market in Florida is great and I didn’t want to drag my feet too long. The house and neighborhood turned out to be a great 3 year investment.

I didn’t know where I was going to go on the Ohio end, but I have family that would give me a place to stay and I would store my belongings in a unit while searching for a condo. The demand for Condo homes seems to be very high in just about every place I wanted to live. I missed out on a couple of opportunities, but I wasn’t going to let that stand in the way of my vision. As it turns out in these crazy times, you better have a lot of cash, no contingency and an escalation clause to get what you want. I was starting to look at apartments (just in case), but if you want a nice one, it will cost you every bit the same monthly payment, and usually more than you will pay for a house.

And since I started writing this blog entry, my life became a whirlwind of activity!

I started planning a move on my own and packing soon after the house was under contract. We had downsized once already to go fulltime in our motorhome, but I was amazed at how much we had already accumulated to transform the house into a home. Apparently, all my choices were good ones in staging the house because I got top dollar for it in our neighborhood. Roger had fought me tooth and nail over buying “things” we didn’t need, but spending time in the real estate business years ago and learning dos & don’ts, certainly paid off. The buyer’s agent told me that their buyers chose my house over others because it was beautiful, spotless and move-in ready. They purchased some of my furniture, which enabled me to move with less.

My house closed on June 21st. I signed my paperwork and got on the road directly from the Lawyer’s office. I had packed my car with important items, some last minute stuff, a bit of car food and water. I had no idea that I was about to face a very long, stressful and rainy day.

The fun started about two hours into my trip north. The PODS driver that was picking up my packed POD called me as I was approaching I10. He said “Mrs. Turner- are you home?” I answered “No, I am already en route to I10. Is there something wrong?” He then says “Oh Mrs. Turner, we got a problem! Your POD isn’t locked.” I said “What do you mean it’s not locked? I made sure I put the lock on it before leaving the house.” He said “The lock is on, but I can lift the door right up.” Oh my God! I am about to die on the road! If he had not checked that door, my belongings could have been scattered all over Ocala on the way to the warehouse! Either it was a defective door mechanism, or my defective last-minute haste to get things done!

“Don’t you worry Mrs. Turner. I will call my warehouse supervisor and we’ll get this resolved! You just keep going because you are too far away to do anything about it.”

An hour after this exchange of words and heartfelt emotion, they called to tell me they cut the lock off, locked it properly with a new one and will contact me to find out where to send the new keys. Problem one solved! Thank you PODS.

My next stop for gas would prove to be even more exciting.

I got fuel and parked my car out of the way so I could get a fresh cup of Java. When I returned to my car and pressed the remote to unlock it, I heard nothing. I pressed it again, and still heard nothing. Third time the charm? Nope. Nada! My remote was not working and I can’t get in my locked car.

Oh, but wait! It’s a 2015 and still has a key to insert into the lock, so I shall try this foreign method to enter my car. My car decided it doesn’t like the key and starts the alarm blowing loudly for the guy next to me to give me dirty looks. Well, guess what? The button wouldn’t work to stop the alarm from blaring either. Pressing harder doesn’t help. Eventually, it stopped and my heart was pounding after I sat down in my car and shut the door.

I believed the immediate problem was over, but did you know that inserting your key into the ignition, after what my car believes is an attempted theft, ignites another episode of “let’s piss off everyone” and the alarm started blaring again! I am thinking now that the man sitting in his car next to me fully believes that I am a stupid female that knows nothing about cars.

So I phone a friend. “What should I do?” I asked after laughing hysterically over my dreaded situation. He asked me if I could manually lock and unlock my door with the lock button. Well, I locked it, but now it won’t unlock. I am literally locked in my car like a prisoner now and it’s very warm. I know if I insert the key that I may hear the dreaded alarm again! I said “Oh this is not good!” to which he responded “Start the car and just go! Just take off and go!” This time, the alarm doesn’t go off, but it flashes that an attempted theft has been made on my vehicle.

I am still laughing as I started down the road. My friend called me back after researching the situation and explained that using the car handle twice in a row will unlock the door if it happens again. We both know that my remote battery must have died and now I am faced with a new dilemma. Where is the 2nd remote that I know I packed somewhere in the back of the car, but have no idea at this point- where?!

My next stop results in basically unpacking the back of my car, as I frantically look everywhere for the other remote. Have you ever witnessed this scene during a trip? You stair at what appears to be an idiot searching thru everything they packed into the car, placing items on the ground, and rummaging thru suitcases. It always appeared hilarious to me. NOT anymore. I now know that there just might be a very good reason for such roadside activity. I am usually a very organized person, but this was a last minute attempt to fit everything left in my house into the back of my car with time restraints for an appointment to sign papers downtown. The remote was right where I put it- I just couldn’t remember where that spot was. Finally- success! I now have a working remote for the rest of my trip. My day was filled with heavy rain and several stops to docu-sign last minute items before the closing transfer could take place. I got the email at 6:52pm that my Florida home was no longer my responsibility, as it had transferred and closed. That chapter of my life has ended and a new one officially had begun.

The next day results in a moment I am quite sure many can relate to.

I fueled up near my hotel first thing in the morning. I always place my credit card in my pocket as I fill the tank and immediately return it to my wallet when I get back into the car. But, perhaps I was a bit exhausted after a day of driving in torrential rain and not getting enough sleep in a hotel bed. The credit card remained in my pocket after I returned to my seat.

How do I know this? Because the next time I stopped for a pit stop, I returned to my car to find my American Express gold card face down on the ground next to my car door! It obviously worked it’s way out of my pocket. Oooooops! Close call that could have been a disaster.

I finally made it to my sister’s home, where they were both waiting for my safe arrival. The sense of relief I felt after two long rainy days and fog in many areas, was overwhelming.

I am home!

I now start the process of closing again. This time, I am closing on a wonderful condo home that will enable me to enjoy the freedom of no yardwork, no snow removal, and the ability to walk away when I want to travel and visit friends for awhile.

The process has begun and I am now set to close tomorrow, July 6th, as I sit in Wisconsin dog-sitting for dear friends. It has not been an easy task to organize a closing in a different state than your house is in, but I have figured out in this life that anything is possible if you work hard enough for it. I am about to join the condo world of living- something very new to me, yet I am excited for new adventures and my new life. In the meantime, I am “Mom” to my favorite Doodle, who is adjusting quite well to me. Love, attention and food is all you need with pets…

I sort of feel like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz.

“There’s no place like home.”

Me on the left, little sister on the right before heading out for a wonderful evening with big sister and our niece

That is how long I have been widowed.

I believe I am making progress in many areas of my life. I am socializing again, back to cooking for one, keeping up with my bills, the house, the pool and the yard. I am living alone, but constantly trying to stay in touch with the world.

I am a survivor.

I look in the mirror when I feel down, and whenever I see something I don’t like? I talk to that sad person staring back at me; “You have survived much worse.” “Get cleaned up and do something- anything will do.” “There’s no time in this life to waste feeling sorry for yourself.”

When I was living a total nightmare during the great recession, I rose up from the ashes and made a new life for myself. I had lost my Mother, I survived extreme financial loss, a terrible divorce at age 50, and walked away from the dream house I built to live in an apartment. My heart was shattered, but I was determined then, and even more so now, to live and love life again.

I joined a private group for widows thinking it might help me, and it has only done one thing for me. It proved to me just how strong I really am! Most of these people live in the past- and not for just a couple of months. Some of these people have not started living after many years of grieving. They are absolutely stuck with both feet in quicksand and haven’t figured out that the more they struggle, the more they sink into grief. It seems as though that is how they identify themselves now- grieving widows. And you know what? That old saying “misery loves company” must have come from a group of people stuck in grief. The only reason I stay in the group is that I try to encourage some of them when appropriate. Otherwise, I’m out.

I don’t know what I have that they don’t, but I’d gladly share it with them if it would help them to heal. If I shared my tip of looking into the mirror and having a heart-to-heart pep talk with myself- would they think I’m crazy? Well if I am, I’m pretty good at it because I am out of the quicksand.

It doesn’t matter how much you loved, honored and cherished your spouse, you only have two choices when they die; join them or continue to live. That may sound harsh, but it’s true. I’m pretty sure the majority is going to choose life over death. However, many seem so stuck into death that they are not truly living at all.

I can’t be a part of that limbo- alive, but not living. I’d almost compare it to being on life support, and that’s just temporary until your body heals and your mind kicks into gear. Sooner than later, you gotta want to live in order to survive. I’m so scared of life support, that I won’t allow myself to get that bad, so I kicked into gear ahead of everyone.

Perhaps my writing will help kick someone else into gear. Read it out loud if you have to because audio people learn better when they hear something. So hear my brief message.

I’ve communicated this before; none of us are getting out of here alive. If you are suffering thru this process, try your best to keep out of the quicksand. Do not sit around talking to your dead spouse all day because they don’t answer. Try talking to yourself instead. Sound a little crazy? Well at least I am capable of answering. (Laughing a bit.) I am also listening because I get myself moving and I am feeling motivated again.

I don’t need to remind you that everyone and every relationship is different, but I just did anyway. 100 days for me is twice the length of time it took for my husband to pass. That means I have not really had a life for 150 days. That’s enough time for me to know that I want to enjoy living again and do something about it.

I used to say “I love my life” once I rose from the ashes at the end of 2010 and started thriving once more.

Step by step, day by day, I am working towards being able to say it again.

This hand written note from my dear friend is a constant reminder of what I’m capable of…

When you have traveled the entire US in a motorhome, the choices are endless as to finding that special place you may want to retire and settle down in for the rest of your life. I ought to know, because that’s exactly what my husband and I did for over 10 years.

As many of you know, we sold our house in 2017 and became full time in the big bus- a Tiffin RED nearly 40 feet long. It was my husband’s dream to drive a luxurious house on wheels over the highways of America in search of new sights to see, people to meet and new towns that would perhaps become home. How many people actually get to live out their dreams? My guess is, fewer than any of us would like to believe.

Okay. Curiosity got the best of me and I Googled it! A whopping 8% achieve their dreams/goals! No wonder my husband died with no regrets to speak of!

Now being single and living completely on my own, it’s like I have finished one book and attempting to start a new one.

Let me clarify what I mean by living on my own. I have absolutely no one living near me that I’m related to. My husband is deceased. My parents are deceased. My son who lives up north with my two Grandchildren are estranged (not by my choice, but as life turns out- it is rarely ever fair.) My Step Daughter and one more Grandchild also live up north. My brother and sisters and their families all live in the north. I live in the south. My friends here in the south are primarily snow birds, so they are around for approximately five months a year. This means I am totally without my people- the ones I know and socialize with and hang out with for over six months of the year.

Now, if I had more money, I would travel the entire summer season and return home about the same time my snowbird friends come back. But there is more than just money issues with that idea. I have a house with a pool (pool service doesn’t cover attending to your water level. At least the one I can afford doesn’t.) I am tied to maintenance unless I have more money. I am paying for lawn care (mowing), but I still maintain the weeds, the flowers, the bushes, etc. Unless…You guessed it- I pay more money! You can get any services you want down here with money and you need quite a bit of it.

Living in the south is absolutely wonderful during the winter months, but no one wants to work outside during the hot swampy summers in 90+ degrees. I sure don’t. So most of the answers to my issues are to have more money. If I get a job, I won’t be able to travel all summer. Not to mention, I am now 60 something. My career days are over, so finding a job that will pay me what I need to live the way I want and still have freedom??? Yeah, well…you know what they say; wish in one hand and 💩 in the other. I pretty much doubt that I’m gonna get rich quick at this stage of my life. I’m a Widow living the unchosen life- a member of the club with less income in my retirement than we had just a short 90 days ago. It’s life’s reality staring me in the face and not a whole hell-of-a-lot I can do about it.

So, the reality of my situation is this; I can afford my house here in the south and work a part time job. Or I can sell my house with the pool and get into something here without a pool and yard maintenance (Condo or active 55+ community with HOA’s or maintenance fees- and they don’t come cheap!) Or I can sell my house and head north where I would have friends and family around me all year long, but taxes, interest rates, home prices and moving costs might cause a major loss in capital that can’t be easily regained in my retirement years.

The bottom line is this. We all work towards the goal of financial security, and just when you think it all looks pretty good, life throws you a curve. The death of a spouse is not easy to take under the best of circumstances. If you throw in the loss of income, then you face paddling upstream against a strong current.

I have done pros and cons and it still comes down to one thing; my heart. Pros consist of family vs weather. Cons are taxes vs insurance. Hurricanes vs snowstorms. Blah blah blah. In the end, the perfect scenario will need to present itself in front of my brain to help push me in the right direction.

In the meantime, I am going north for a visit and meeting up with friends and family. I will see where my feelings are and if I get that rush that says “Wow, have I missed this!” Or I say to myself “Boy, I can’t wait to get back to my southern life!”

What do you think I will decide? What new book am I about to start? I would be happy just to turn the page and start a new chapter. I still have time to dream something new, I just need to figure out how to turn a dream into a reality on a tight budget.

I know I can do this. Stick with me and find out what lies ahead of me.

Will it be hurricanes or snowstorms?

Today I am reminded of just how insensitive and automated our world has become.

I keep getting messages from Cox Cable (You remember the story I told you about them cancelling our existing account and having to re-open a new one for me? With all new equipment?) Today’s message is: “How was your experience becoming a Cox Customer?” They want me to take a survey as a new customer after I have been a customer for 3 years now. My husband is no longer watching TV because he died- but I’m considered a new customer because I now watch TV alone with my new equipment that I didn’t need. How insensitive and frustrating! I want to tell them to shove their survey where the sun don’t shine! But, do I really want to go thru the hassle of changing service, having another credit check, and start all over with new equipment, antennas mounted, the whole nine yards of dealing with more of the same bullshit, just with a different company?

And it’s not just Cox Cable. Please allow me to share my recent experience with our Social Security Administration.

I received the death certificates about 10 days after my husband died. Once you receive the certified proof that your spouse is deceased, that is when you can proceed with dealing with the official notifications to military, social security, credit bureaus, mortgage company, car insurance, IRA’s, health insurance, dental insurance…oh I could go on forever! I think you have the picture.

I called Social Security in the beginning of February to advise them of my husband’s passing. (They were already notified because he was military.) They set up a phone appointment in April (yes, almost 2 months later), and I just had that call this past week before Easter.

This guy, who almost sounded like a robot, calls and confirms who he is and why he has called. He asks all the information about me- which honestly? They already have because I took early retirement and already collecting my benefit. After he asks me to verbally verify that I have supplied the correct information and under penalty of law, not committed perjury, he starts to advise me when I will start receiving my husband’s monthly benefit payments.

Whoah!! Stop the press and let me explain what happens next!

I know y’all might find this hard to believe, but I actually had a full blown life before I married my guy. I had a great paying career and was a successful business woman back in the day. Even though the great recession knocked me down a few pegs, I had already paid more into social security than the average Joe Schmoe. If I sound a little sarcastic? It’s because I am. Remember my tag line? “Truth served up with a side of sarcasm.” So here is a dose of reality that Alberto (SS Advisor) served up to me:

I thought I was signing up to receive a one-time benefit of $255.00 for death of a spouse that we are all eligible for once you prove your spouse is dead- thus, the death certificate. But, what Mr. Alberto really signed me up for, was my deceased husband’s Social Security benefits, because he assumed it would be higher than what I am currently collecting on my own benefit.

As he is wrapping up the application process, he starts to advise me when I could expect the new monthly payment to begin. “HOLD EVERYTHING” I said. I explained that I was confused by what he just said to me and clarified the reason for my call was to apply for the lump sum of $255 a one-time death payment. He proceeds to advise me that my husband’s payout would be more than mine, to which I replied “I believe you are mistaken- check the amounts.” I filed our taxes back in February and quickly pulled out our 1099 forms from SS and advised him again, that “I believe you are incorrect.”

Alberto, in his low and slow robotic voice, tells me to “hang on, wait just a minute while I check this out.” I hear him clicking away on the computer keyboard as I wait in silence. Finally, his voice methodically says to me, “YOU ARE CORRECT.” I wanted to say at the moment “NO SHIT SHERLOCK!” because he should have known this! After all, I am speaking with a Social Security Advisor who should know every detail of my life! But now, there is an application in the system to screw up my monthly SS amount that he informed me could not be unapproved until probably Monday. He proceeds to tell me that I’m qualified for the $255 payout and that I should receive it sometime next week.

Now, I may be just a bit more skeptical after dealing with all these after-death procedures, phone calls and hours of being on hold with government workers, but somehow, I believe that Alberto is going to forget to disqualify that application today, and sometime in the not-too-distant future, I am going to get a smaller check.

Do you think someone is going to catch this huge mistake???

I know what you’re thinking…Perhaps I should have called today and followed up with Social Security to make sure that application was trashed, right? But, in case you don’t know this, you wait almost an hour to get a representative, but they don’t really do anything except field the incoming calls. They would probably schedule me for another phone appointment to actually speak to Alberto, or someone else that actually advises as he does, and that will take longer than getting my next check! So, I have decided to wait this out and see what happens next. I’m just tired of dealing with Stupid.

You do realize that none of this would have happened if it was not assumed that “the wife” draws less than “the husband”? It is a fact that women are still treated differently in this country than men when it comes to business and money. I have experienced it from day one. Even friends and family have made the same casual assumption. I am also 100% sure that my husband would be collecting a bigger check if I had died first, because he obviously, yet quietly, knew that mine was bigger than his.

Being in this Widows Club is not for the faint of heart and you have no choice. Many Widows die within a short time of their spouse and people always say that they died from a broken heart. For some, that may be true. But, as for me, I believe it is due to the shock and disbelief to one’s system that is simply more than a body can withstand.

First, you suffer through the prolonged tests and diagnoses. Next, you face decisions that you never think of- decisions of getting affairs in order that should have been done in advance, but rarely ever are. Then you become a caretaker, nurse, hospital housekeeper, errand runner and field medical calls all day. At the end of the day when you are exhausted, you become the informer, as all your family and friends are waiting to hear updates from you. As time grows thin and running out, you start making final arrangements and emotionally triggered into shock and despair. Then you get to say goodbye. You get to look into the dying eyes of your loved one and tell them stuff you’ve never rehearsed for, but it’s your final act of kindness and love with no do-overs- no second take. You go home to a house full of medical equipment with no patient.

You are left feeling abandoned by your spouse- alone, and in the deafening silence of your home, you keep remembering every moment every day for days on end of the dying, the disease, the pain and the suffering. Most of us are not built for this type of exposure to someone dying in front of your eyes. You have PTSD, whether diagnosed or undiagnosed. You seek help from your Doctor because you know your body isn’t right. They recommend medications, they advise you to get grief counseling, join a group, anything to help you with the lack of sleep and loneliness that has permeated your life. The reality is you watched your person wither and die. It is only natural that some of us handle this better than others. It is common for people to die after all this trauma to their bodies, not from a broken heart, but from the stress and emotional toll to their bodies and from neglect of personal health and well being during this tragic circumstance.

Are you a member of this club? It doesn’t have to be your spouse. I know several people that have buried a child. I know many of us have gone thru these very same things with a parent or parents. But only a spouse earns you the “W” club. For some reason, they decided years ago to brand you as a “Widow” when your spouse dies, and so you join the club whether you like it or not.

I said I would help others thru this ordeal, and I know for a fact that I already have. You can expect 90 days of your life to be wrapped up with tying up lose ends and getting paid. If anyone makes a mistake, you can expect it to take even longer. So today’s advice is this: You will have to survive without a steady income or a major decrease of income for 3-6 months minimum. Life insurance would be a huge help to ensure that happens, but having a savings account with accessible money that will last you 6 months is highly advisable and is what kept me from despair. You must be able to pay all your bills during this 6 months or you will be dealing with financial carnage and credit issues.

Lastly, I will say that the one thread that is common to every single Widow is; the silence is deafening. It is the loneliest sound you will ever hear. It cannot be compared to anything else. It’s not like a divorce where choices were made and you knew it was coming. You have no time to adjust to death. One minute they are alive, and the next, you are alone. They are gone forever from this earth no matter what you believe- afterlife or not. You are never going to have another conversation, another hug, another disagreement, another road trip with them here again.

I drove to the Comfort Lodge with my husband in my car. Imagine knowing you are backing out of your driveway with your person alive and knowing they will never return to this place we called home. Just imagine him seeing his house and his yard for the very last time. Imagine the heaviness in my heart that I would rather be anywhere but where I was in that moment- knowing he had to be under 24/7 care at this point and filled with so much fear that he would fall trying to get out of bed or stop breathing in the middle of the night if he had stayed another day.

Imagine every time you close your eyes that you hear and see these sights over and over again. No one can imagine this because we won’t allow ourselves to deal with death. And when it comes, we are not prepared, nor can we unsee what we have seen.

They say never to make a major decision after a death because your brain needs time to heal. How much time is needed? How much time do you have? I don’t have the answer to this, but I know I feel frozen in time. I can’t seem to move forward and I can’t go back. I only know two things right now; my family is up north and so is winter. I know houses are still over-priced, especially up north. Condos are priced even worse because they count the condo fees or HOA’s as part of your payment when qualifying your income-to-debt ratios for a mortgage. I feel stuck and yet I want to run away. For now, I am paying someone to take care of my yard and that is progress…

In my last blog titled “Lost”, I truly felt lost and confused as I wrote it. I had several people reach out to me after reading it and I would like to say how much I appreciated their kind words and invitations to get together. I certainly plan to follow up with them and hopefully make it happen.

I also mentioned giving other Widows advice as I live and learn thru this unchosen life. I had no idea when I wrote those words that people were already telling others to read my blog. If you are one of those people reading this right now; I want to welcome you and remind you that none of us are getting out of here alive– so it’s best to plan ahead.

I am going to pass on advice as I receive it, but I also cannot stress enough the power of friendship in this process.

Please continue to read on, and perhaps, you too will tell someone you know that is newly widowed to read my blog. But honestly? Anyone that is married or legally bound to another person should be taking this advice as serious as a heart attack! You never know when you or your partner’s time is up.

I recently experienced the power of friendship and how it can affect your perspective during tough times and would like to share it with you.

I know how hard it is to get out of bed in the morning after not sleeping well and to try and motivate yourself to do something- anything that requires a shower, maybe some makeup and going out in public to see or visit people. But here’s what it did for me: It proved to me that friends still want to be around you even if they don’t know exactly what to say. It showed me that they don’t call laughter the best medicine for nothing. Even if you don’t feel up to visiting- push yourself to go and be around people you enjoy for short periods of time. Planning to go visit some friends gave me a reason to get up, clean up, and make myself look nice, which definitely affects how you feel about yourself. It also proves to you that people really do listen and care about you. This dismisses random thoughts that no one cares or understands what you’re going thru. I shared a delicious homemade meal with them and didn’t have to cook (huge bonus for someone who doesn’t want to cook a meal for one.) I also met another Widow, which made me realize that I’m not alone and that there is always someone that has things worse than you do. This helps you become more focused.

Not to mention that they shared their beautiful scenic ranch with me and built a bonfire that we spent the cool and breezy evening sitting around its warmth while sharing conversation. It seemed to pull me right up by my bootstraps and I actually enjoyed my day and didn’t feel lonely or sad, as has become all too normal.

I have a great friend that lives locally during the winter that has been here for me from the moment I learned my husband was terminally ill. She happens to be a financial advisor and certified in all aspects of life stages and planning. I can say without hesitation that without her friendship and her professional guidance that I would be in a world of hurt and confusion. To be more blunt; I would be in deep poo!

She always inspires me and passes on professional advice and I would like to pass on to you a tidbit of what I learned today from a podcast with Ric Adelman, one of the nation’s most acclaimed financial advisors:

1) There are 20 million Widows & Widowers in the US today (let’s just refer to all of them as Widows going forward).

2) 1.4 million people will lose their spouses every year (15% are white women, 24% are black women- ALL likely to become poor).

3) The average age of a wife to become a widow is 59 years old.

4) 67% of women suffer a loss of income and 1/2 of them will lose 1/2 of their income.

5) Women that become Widows in their retirement years will lose about 1/3 of their income according to the GAO (Government Accountability Office).

6) 26% will move to lower cost housing.

These are some astounding facts that I bet no one even thinks about until they become a Widow. If someone doesn’t give advice to married people, more people will become a part of these statistics. More women will become poor and feel helpless. My guess is, the only reason why some married folks don’t face these facts ahead of pending disaster is because they might not be able to afford professional guidance, or one of the two is not willing to discuss or spend money on death planning. I refer to it as death planning because we are all going to die, yet no one wants to plan it. Do people actually believe if you don’t discuss it that it won’t happen? Well my husband also believed that health was simply a mind over matter power, but obviously, you can’t desire to live forever and actually live forever.

The bottom line of today’s podcast was exactly what I said last week; Talk about these things, get advice and plan ahead. Talk to a financial planner, estate attorney, tax advisor- anyone that knows more than you about what will follow after the death of your spouse. It is imperative that a married couple talks openly about illness and the inevitable before it happens, or the trauma is made far worse than it has to be, due to financial hardship.

Ask yourself the important questions about when you will die- who is going to pick up the tab? Do you have life insurance that will cover the burial expenses you desire? Will you be leaving a spouse or children in debt? I believe these three questions are enough for now to kick start your brain and get it thinking about your pending death because it is in pending status every single day.

My advice for today- friendship is priceless and get professional guidance about how death will financially affect you and your loved ones before it’s too late. We’ve all heard it a million times; “tomorrow isn’t promised”, but a Widow truly understands how your next breath could be your last…

If you are one of the people that have called, texted, emailed or sent me a card; I can’t thank you enough for thinking of me. If you are local and have visited me, made time for coffee, lunch or dinner with me; I can’t express my appreciation enough for lifting my spirits more than you realize. If you don’t know my husband died of cancer in January, I guess you don’t know me very well or follow me on Facebook.

I have had several people reach out to me if they don’t see me post anything in days and I truly appreciate those three simple words “Are you okay?” I feel like I am doing okay for someone who has been thrown into a world of shock, cancer, death and post death trauma. But I really am lost for words when asked if I’m okay. I simply react most of the time like being poked and quickly respond “yes.”

Not only am I lost for words, I am unable to make good decisions, have difficulty getting out of bed and don’t want to face the loneliness of another day. There’s a bunch of yard work to do, house cleaning to be done, bills to pay, phone calls to make, unending follow up with important matters, and I don’t want to do any of it- but do it anyway. Some days last forever, some days don’t. I just know that I have absolutely no clue what the hell I’m going to do most days and the feeling starts fresh every single morning. It’s like a thick heavy fog rolls over my house at dawn and surrounds my existence. If I’m lucky, someone calls or texts me and snaps me out of my fog.

Then after I eat something every evening, I feel like the fog rolls over me once again. I face the nights like a game I never win. Unwilling to call it quits- I toss and I turn in my bed relentlessly until I finally get up and make a cup of tea with honey and bourbon. I cannot win this game, so I play it over and over again.

If you have lost a spouse, I am guessing this sounds all too familiar. However, every relationship is different and that is why grieving is never the same for any two people. But simply put; I feel like I don’t belong anywhere right now and nothing comes into focus. There are times I can’t remember things or even find the words to speak.

I have certainly been alone before and I’ve done everything that I am doing now before. But that was over 12 years ago. I was younger, healthier and was willing and able to handle the load. I was single and viewed everything I did simply as what needed to be done and I was very happy. Now? I feel stranded. I didn’t see this coming. I didn’t have enough time to prepare and I don’t like this sinking feeling. I am lost and I am fighting to find happiness. I know it’s “too soon” but I want it now because I know what the stinging reality of not being promised tomorrow feels like. I have just witnessed it with my husband’s death.

Our friends are all couples and overnight- now I’m not. I don’t have any single friends here. I do know other Widows that didn’t ask to be single, but don’t live near me either. My close friends are snowbirds and will soon be gone. I am dreading that day. I have no family living near me.

And then there is the most important decisions concerning finances. I took an early retirement because I could. My husband provided health insurance all the years we traveled, which enabled me to retire early. But now my check is less and I have to consider going back to work at retirement age. This is not something you think about until it’s thrown at you like a brick. While most people my age are excited about retiring and traveling, I have been there and done that and looking at returning to work. It’s ass backwards and it’s my unchosen life.

People have asked me, “So what is it that you would like to do?” or “What do you enjoy doing?”

I have been running a household, cooking, cleaning, doing laundry and all the other things you do when you’re married. We travelled extensively in our motorhome for 10 years, enjoyed happy hours by the beach, explored charming new towns, discovered waterfront lunch spots, planned get-togethers with friends from all over the country. That’s what I enjoy doing. I have written this blog for over 5 years sharing all of these adventures with thousands of readers. That is what I am used to doing. I have not pictured myself going back to work or thought about what I would do when my husband dies (something he never ever wanted to discuss), but that is where you find yourself when your husband dies with no life insurance and no plan.

I can not answer this serious question of what I would like to do. I just know that I hate feeling lost and confused every day.

I have explored opportunities and we are not living in the best of times. Apartment living is more expensive than my house, but comes with freedom from yardwork. Condo’s come with a huge HOA price tag that buys you that freedom from yardwork, but certainly no freedom from a hefty monthly bill, maintenance or repairs. I can pay for landscaping where I live, but owning a house with a pool by yourself is no easy task. It is a different story when you are suddenly faced with all the outdoor work on top of everything you already do, and then add a job into the mix when you are supposed to be retired. That’s why we bought the house with a pool in the first place! To entertain and enjoy life. My husband loved landscaping and working outside, but that was his passion- not mine. He wasn’t interested in Condo living, or paying HOA’s, and now it’s all on me to figure out the answers for what is best and what is affordable for me. Anger is one of the other feelings I struggle with and it’s very difficult to explain to people on the outside looking in.

All these decisions, and yet, my brain is mush! I can’t even figure out what to eat most days because I’m not used to fixing meals for one.

So there you have it. Life after death of a spouse. Shock, horror, death, after death reality- PTSD sets in, can’t sleep, can’t think, can’t decide what’s right for yourself, like where you should live or what you should live in. And the kicker is; where should you go to work so you can actually afford to make these life-changing decisions?

There is no secret to unlock here, just the sounds of reality. Living on half of what you had during times of inflation will not lead to some secret garden of Eden where happiness abounds. There is no grief counseling that helps you with your financial plan that only benefited the spouse that died. There is no doctor or psychologist that can figure out any of these life changes for you. There is no happy pill that I am willing to take because I don’t want to live without emotions. There is just me and reality and a house with a pool that needs tending to.

Writing is my outlet. It is my truth served up with a side of sarcasm. I struggled a bit to find the words today, but I guess my mush brain is still working. I believe my next few blogs might be to help others, especially women, who might find themselves walking in my shoes. For anyone living with a man that never wants to discuss the “what ifs”, I definitely have some advice for you; when they say “Everything will be okay”, do not fall for that. Do not ignore the issue. It is just a diversion because they don’t want to deal with it. So guess what? You better deal with it before you find yourself in my world of reality! Taking care of a dying husband is bad enough and the aftermath is inevitable. The last thing anyone needs in this situation is a financial crisis when a vacation from reality would be more beneficial.

Stay tuned for more on this subject because I have a feeling I’m not the only woman who was married to a man that said “Everything will be okay.” I believe I will start a Preceding Death Counseling service because grief counseling will do nothing to solve most of your problems…

And my final wave goodbye…

October 20th, 2010 was the day Roger and I had our “Meet Cute” at the Corkscrew in Medina. If you don’t understand that term, I am referring to a favorite movie The Holiday when Arthur (played by Eli Wallach) explains to Iris (played by Kate Winslet) about two people meeting in the pajama department- one looking for just a top and the other looking for just the bottoms, leading to the “cute” circumstances that bring them together. Everyone that knows us knows how Roger and I met that day. He was looking for a single woman to travel with in his RV, and I was deep in discussion with the bartender about life, but raised my hand jokingly like a little girl gesturing “pick me” after hearing his question out loud to Marissa! The rest of the story has led us to here and Roger’s journey on earth has ended.

Our relationship started off with a bang. Private messages on Facebook led to texting, which started a flurry of meeting out and getting to know one another over cocktails and dinner. Eventually, our first real date where he actually picked me up at my place was for a walk in the park, followed by a Clambake at his friend’s house with a huge bonfire and shots of Jager going around. That led to an invitation to dinner at his place, and then a fairytale weekend at the log cabin on Lake Buckhorn, where we eventually would marry by the Falls.

The first month was surreal as we had so many things in common- even our Granddaughter’s were 3 months apart in age and we both loved Italy and traveling. We had actually walked down the same streets in Florence (years apart) and shared experiences, including Harry’s Bar and the Piazza della Signoria (the historical square in front of Palazzo Vecchio.)

I was at a point of enormous change in my life brought on by the great recession and I was about to enter the biggest change of all after raising my hand.

I am not going to share the entire story at the risk of being repetitive, but we married two years after we met, and we traveled around the country for ten years in three different RV’s. We started out with weekends and vacations and graduated to snowbirds spending 5 months in the Keys dating back to 2013. We did the unthinkable and sold our house and traveled full time until 2020 when we bought our cottage home in the South.

Why does any of this matter? Because when someone is on their death bed, the last thing you want to hear is regrets. Roger voiced no regrets to his daughter about their life together, nor to me upon the last days of his life. I truly believe that the day I raised my hand, I unknowingly fulfilled his dream to travel and enjoy life to the fullest. We had a good life.

Roger was diagnosed with terminal cancer on December 27th and died on January 26th. His PET scan was on January 6th and I arranged for in-home Hospice just a few days later. There was no other course of action and the Oncologist said Hospice was the right choice and keeping him comfortable was my only goal.

We never got a second chance for our Christmas “Eve” Eve dinner that we had to cancel because Roger had pneumonia. We never got a second chance to have dinner or Happy Hour with Cheryl and Dave after it had to be canceled. The Doctor gave us an approval form to get Roger a Handicap tag for his truck and we never had the chance to pick it up before he was too weak to drive. I asked him what I should do about the insurance on the truck because it would be due soon in February. I will never forget the look in his eyes when he said to me “I won’t be here in February.” I could not respond.

I was worried that he might have to go to a skilled nursing facility if he became too sick for me to handle at home alone, but he ended up needing Hospice Comfort care quickly. I wondered what would happen in six months if he outlasted the time Hospice gives you, and he only made it to 17 days on Hospice care. The last 6 days were in a facility with 24/7 care with his same team of unbelievably good nurses and skilled caretakers. I was advised on January 23rd by our Social Worker to make arrangements with the Funeral home we had chosen, and they sent someone right to our house so we could expedite the procedure quickly, as Roger was getting closer to making his exit.

I worried and I cried. I watched my husband go from weakness and fatigue to dying and death in what seemed like eternity and an instance- all at the same time. Our house went from our home to a nursing facility with essential equipment in less than 24 hours. I went from a wife to a full time nurse administering drugs to keep Roger comfortable. I never slept but a few hours at a time waking up with every one of his battles to breathe and in need of my help. And yet, there were all of the other details of life just waiting for me- like grocery shopping, paying bills, drugstore runs, laundry, and making something to eat. None of that stops just because your husband is dying and my days seemed to disappear from sun up to sun down. But to Roger, each day felt like forever. I was so alone and I was so scared. I thought he might die in the middle of the night, yet that thought was almost comforting- not to see him tortured anymore by the cancer that rapidly consumed his body.

When Roger’s Daughter and Granddaughter came, they also worried and they cried. Once our Granddaughter left, our Daughter returned alone to help ease the planning process with her Dad, and we all discussed exactly what he wanted when his life here was over. The arrangements were that I would get him through his final journey here in Florida, and then take some time to recover. The torch would then be passed to his Daughter to take charge of the arrangements for her Dad’s internment once I got his remains shipped back home to the National Cemetery in Ohio.

That time came quickly and Roger is now home as I write this. He arrived in Ohio on February 6th and the plans for his Full Honors Ceremony are completed.

There is more crying to be done, but I won’t be returning home until I am ready to celebrate. Yes, I said celebrate. I want to be surrounded by all those we started our relationship with and enjoy sharing stories, have a few laughs and talk about the good times we all had.

A celebration of a life that was once vibrant and full of adventure and excitement. A life that I agreed to when I raised my hand. A life I will not soon forget.

BUT, I need to heal and I need to move forward. I find myself living in our past daily as memories pop up on Facebook and I have numerous conversations with friends and family. The fact is, I haven’t lived a life at all since the day Roger went to the Doctor for pain in his upper chest on December 6th. I’ve lived every day to take him to appointments, to the hospital, to the Doctor visits, and eventually to take care of him 24/7. I helped get all of his affairs in order, which is painstakingly difficult with paperwork and phone calls, all while I was taking care of him, and now it continues after he is gone. No man can fully understand how difficult this process is for the Wife left behind. The husband that has everything in his name will never have to deal with his loss of identity when his wife dies. His life continues just as it was- just without her in it. My life has been thrown into turmoil because “they” don’t just remove my husband’s name from our accounts. They close the accounts and you are forced to open new ones. Luckily for me, I was able to start that process before Roger died. I now have several of my own accounts, but it took me over a month to establish my own identity and you are treated as a newbie.

Just one example: Our cable company had to remove ALL the perfectly good equipment a couple days ago, run a soft credit check on me to open my new account, and installed ALL new equipment before anything would work after I made that phone call. A husband wouldn’t have had to report any changes what so ever and would have been watching football, while I had to watch a DVD because I had no service for over 24 hours. This is reality- Life after Death if you’re a woman dealing with the loss of your husband. Reality is a bugger! I would have waited to make that initial call, but I needed to reduce my monthly bill and couldn’t make changes to our existing account without Roger. BOOM!

It is time for me to step back and let my recovery begin. I believe I am suffering from PTSD of sorts accompanied by my usual anxiety and under Doctor’s care for stomach issues.

Roger will be laid to rest on Monday and my new life will also begin that day. I will begin it alone.

I have to figure out what I will do with the rest of my life and where I will go from here. I will be doing it alone and that is not easy after living under the same roof with a husband 24/7 since the day we retired. We moved into an RV, and later our home and always together. Even when we weren’t together, we were still connected. Not to mention the loss of income that will surely sting, as many widows I know have dealt with.

This is one of the most difficult tasks of all- figuring out who I want to be and how I want to live my life for the remaining time I have left here.

The opportunities are endless, yet scary. This is “The End” of our chapter together and a new story is about to begin.

An update on Roger:

Tuesday, Jan 17th, Hospice gathered Roger’s team of Caregivers for a Pinning Ceremony, which honors a patient who has served in the military.

Most military people are honored during the day of interment with an Honors Ceremony followed by a 21 gun salute and “Taps” are played. The flag is precisely folded and handed to a designated person with a plaque signed by the President of the USA. It is a very emotional service for family members and close friends, as this is their final goodbye with Honors.

Honoring a terminal patient while they are still very much alive is even more of a special honor and extremely emotional for family or friends in attendance. You are looking into the eyes of a once vibrant soldier, a once very healthy man, hard worker, Husband, Father, Friend while listening to “God Bless the USA” sung by Lee Greenwood in the background.

I was so happy that his Daughter was here for this, as she was raised by her Dad while he served in the military. She has many wonderful memories from living in so many places. She is very well traveled and well spoken from her years of service with her Dad. She has a successful career and a beautiful daughter that will be attending College this Fall.

Also in attendance was two of our best friends that we met back in 2013. They are man and wife and both Army Retirees that we met in Key West on a military campground while spending our first winter as snow birds.

David Farrell, Chief Warrant Officer Five Retired- CW5 (Ret), is also the pilot of a Cessna Skylane 182 and took Roger on a Taco run to Arcadia, FL just weeks ago on December 6th. There is no way on God’s green earth that either of these two men knew that Roger would be seeing the Doctor the very next morning for pain in his chest, which has led us to this moment in time.

Cheryl Farrell, Major Retired- MAJ (Ret) is my close friend that I often call my “Sister from another Mother.” She has been my support system thru this process of unbelievable anguish and total frustration. She poignantly took the lead at the ceremony when it came time for someone to place the pin on Roger’s shirt and presented an honorary plaque to him after reading it out loud. Roger was looking down to hold back his tears, when suddenly, Major Cheryl Farrell gave him his final salute. When she realized he couldn’t see her doing it, she eloquently and firmly ordered “Sargent Turner- Look at me” as he slowly lifted his head and raised his tear-filled eyes up to hers, he could see that she was saluting him as the remainder of us quietly sobbed a few more tears.

My friends, what can I tell you? Who gets to witness such dignity and pride? One Soldier giving a Falling Soldier one final honor, one final command and one final salute? I ask anyone reading this- how could anything at a gravesite top this final gift given by a treasured friend and fellow member of the Armed Forces?

I have no words…

Cara and I thank you for giving us this moment to treasure among the many sad moments during her final visit with her Dad. There are no words for the traumatic week we have had.

This is dedicated to anyone struggling with cancer, whether you’re the patient or the family. Everyone suffers…

And no one knows when it will happen.

December 6th 2022, Roger and his good buddy David did a Taco Tuesday fly-in to Arcadia, Florida. He looked forward to the flight after David invited him the day before and Roger said something like “long way to go for a taco.” We laughed a little and I thought “Well, isn’t life about the journey?” That’s how RVers rolled in our ten years of travel.

Roger was an Air Traffic Controller in the Air Force and has always had a passion for airplanes. He often told me he wished he knew how to fly, but as life would have it, it wasn’t on the priority list. On the other hand- owning an RV certainly was.

Oh how he loved talking to the Air Force pilots back in the good old days and now often watches pilots on Flight Tracker and various other sights just for entertainment.

Taco Tuesday rolled around with a little fog in the morning, but clearing skies made it a beautiful day for a taco. LOL! You thought I was going to say a beautiful day for flying, but as it turned out, a little bit bumpy. That never bothers Roger, but if it were me, I might have lost my Taco! I know all of this because every time he flies with David, he comes home and tells me with a touch of excitement in his voice how it went from start to finish. I always listen intently because I fly in little planes vicariously through him. I need a little more plane between me and the ground!

Why am I telling you all of this? Because it marks the calendar for the course of events that followed.

As it turned out, Roger felt some pain in his chest getting in and out of the airplane on Taco Tuesday and never said a word about it until the next morning. He told me he had a bad pain across his chest and that maybe he should go to the emergency room. I started asking the important questions about the pain and he did not appear to be in any coronary distress as he answered them, so I suggested he call our Primary Care Physician to see if he should go to the ER. They asked him some of the very same questions I did and determined if he could get to the office to go in right away (they are across the street from our hospital.)

An X-ray was done and all his vitals were okay. But an X-ray led to a CT scan, which led to a Pulmonologist, followed by a bronchoscopy (Merry Christmas), which confirmed a large inoperable tumor found in his trachea leading to his upper right lung- which was collapsed. A Biopsy confirmed that he had a very aggressive small cell neuroendocrine carcinoma. Cancer of the worst kind. An Oncologist was called in and ordered an MRI and a PET scan, but Roger decided to celebrate a Happy New Year with a ride to the ER after he could hardly breathe with a side of lightheadedness, resulting in a 3 day visit, and I’m not talking about the Ritz. His MRI was conducted in the hospital exactly one month after he flew with David. The PET scan was conducted a couple days after his release at a cancer center.

In this very short amount of time (only on the calendar- but an eternity to us!) my husband’s health had deteriorated to the point of WTH (my cleaned up version of WTF!) If I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I would not believe that one day you go for a plane ride for tacos and a month later you need a wheelchair to get in and out of a cancer center. I will probably never get over the shock of it all and I feel like a computer spitting out words when I speak them to family members and friends to try and explain the unexplainable.

How does this happen? Do we explain away our symptoms? “Well I’m not as young as I used to be.” “The heat just kicked my ass out there!” “My back hurts- must have been the way I slept.” “Wow- that pizza didn’t sit too well.” “Something I ate gave me terrible indigestion!” Tums here I come.

Sound familiar? Well that is also what happens when you have a cancerous tumor larger than a golf ball in your chest spreading cancer cells to your bones and liver, as it turns out, at least in Roger’s case. We were advised to get his affairs in order.

We worked out the best plan and the best care for Roger with a team of Doctors and nurses, but we don’t know much more beyond what I have explained. His follow up with the Oncologist is too little, too late. Perhaps a written report or a telephone conference because Roger is too weak for me to get him to an appointment. There will be no falling on my watch. He will remain at home with my help and the kind and caring people of Hospice until whenever comes.

So for now my friends, we appreciate your thoughts and prayers to keep Roger as comfortable as can be, but Hospice is assisting me with his home health care for this new kind of journey.

I wonder if he will fly over or go by way of six wheels down? It’s anyone’s guess, but he got to do both while he lived here. Ten years of exploring this country and seeing things that both of us, as children, could only have imagined- wasn’t so bad. Live with no regrets because we never know when tomorrow’s too late. I still have the signed application for a handicap tag for Roger’s truck that we never had time to get at the BMV. Life changes in an instant…