I have been a widow for a little over seven months now, after almost 42 years of marriage. I was 19 and moved out of my parents’ house the day I got married, so this is a whole new ballgame for me. My husband moved out of his parents’ house on our wedding day too. We were newlyweds before we were grown-ups, though he was more of a grownup than I was.
Looking back, The years went by fast ~ and life changed in a flash when he was diagnosed with probable stage 4 lung cancer last August and died in early November. By now we had two grown sons, four grown grandkids and a great grandson. A great granddaughter was born the day after his funeral. Circle of life, I guess. (This is what happens when you have three generations of babies having babies.)
Some “experts” tell you not to make any major decisions for a year. And I “sort of” agreed, especially for people like me who were married for a long time. I was married for more than twice as long as I was single. (and by single years, I mean my childhood.) This is the first time in my life I have been single as an adult. And I am nearly 62 years old.
Some days it feels scary, but other times, not so much. I’m getting off-track here. While it did not feel right selling any farmland quite yet, as it is so soon, I did make a pretty major decision a few weeks ago.
I put a down payment on a “grandma house” at an estate auction. Yes, I am buying a HOUSE on my own! It’s in my nearby hometown, population about 100. I close on it sometime before the end of this month. In the meantime, I am trying to box up 42 years worth of “life” to figure out what gets trashed, what gets donated and what moves with me. My late husband, rest his soul, was a packrat. I have been just as bad. But I have to figure out what to do (short of calling “Hoarders” ) to get over this next mountain which will include getting this my current 120-year old house presentable enough to sell and putting it on the market.
