Maybe joining a health club will help. So I did that, this week. So far, it's good. My body likes to move, even if the mind is bewildered by the equipment not seen in over a decade. Unable to figure out how to adjust the seat of an arm-strengthening machine, much less move anything, I instead happily ride a bike equipped with video screen that takes me up and down hills and race against other faux riders (blow them off the road!) Next week, I will meet with a physical trainer to help me take advantage of other options.
Maybe a massage will help. So I schedule one for next week, and it will include a day at a spa with a tranquility room where I can lounge for hours in a bathrobe. When the receptionist asks if I have any particular physical problems, I say that my husband has died and I'm looking for my body, and she says we can help.
Maybe tying up the legal ends will help, too. So I go to the Health Department for two more copies of the death certificate, and then head to the County Clerk to change the name on our house deed. The first clerk gives me forms, says it will be $200, let's see the certificate...then another clerk runs off a copy of the deed, says no, you're fine, both of your names are on the deed and that doesn't have to change.
I'm not sure what has to change.
Maybe putting on my wedding ring, this time on the right hand. Yes! This time it's right. It's Rich with me, but not; it's me married, but not; it's me in love -- this isn't a maybe. Love still won't be moved.
Candace
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