January 2nd

Yesterday, Wednesday January 2nd, 2013, would have been my wife’s 69th birthday.
.....If she’d made it, which she didn’t.
My beloved wife of over 44 years died of cancer April 17th of last year. She was 68 at that time. I miss her dearly.
People called me up and/or talked to me saying “I bet this day is really hard.”
Actually it wasn’t. We never made much of birthdays anyway.
My wife’s birthday would come-and-go, me having forgotten.
Had it not been for the fact my family’s web-site, now defunct, notified me of my wife’s birthday, I would have forgot yet again.
That and my niece calling up to ask if I was okay.
My wife was slightly older than me. I turn 69 February 5th.
“Married an older women, eh?” a friend observed.
“Well technically,” I said; ”although I always perceived us as the same age.”
I’ve always felt I did extremely well.
That I got a good one.
Marriage is always a pot-shot. You think you might have some idea who your mate will be, but you don’t.
Your perception decided who you would marry, but perception can be wonky.
Chemical madness comes into play. Hormones!
Over 44 years of marriage various distractions arose, but I couldn’t leave.
I doubted I could do any better.
“I’m not about to become another notch on your bed-post,” I told one.
Over 19 years ago I had a stroke, and it severely debilitated me at that time.
My wife sprang into action, and in so doing made it possible for me to recover.
But unfortunately we fell into a routine where I depended on her to cover for me.
What I regret more than anything is not conveying how well I recovered, which I’ve discovered on my own.
An example is a recent bill from Thompson-Health in nearby Canandaigua, a supposed “self-pay” for a blood-draw.
I had a hunch my health-insurance was supposed to pay it.
Before my wife died, she would have been making the phonecalls.
If I were still debilitated I would have just payed the erroneous bill; it was only $37.
But I made the phonecalls myself. I’ve gotten so I can do that.
It’s like a similar occurrence just before she died.
I left important papers in the storage-pouch on the back of her borrowed wheelchair at Strong Hospital.
But I figured she couldn’t pursue that search herself.
I called Strong Hospital and got rammed around by various machines, but managed to recover the papers after arduous struggle.
With that, my wife probably figured I could go it alone.
Although that was the only indication she ever got.
She’s no longer here to cover for me, yet I get by quite well.
Is my calling Thompson-Health worth $37?
Sure; it was only five minutes.
Thompson bills my health-insurance — instead of me.
Too bad my wife can’t know.
A lady at my GriefShare suggests her husband had to die for her to start living.
That’s sort of what’s happening in my case.

• RE: “My family’s web-site......” —My siblings established a family web-site at MyFamily.com. Text and pictures could be posted. It is now defunct. It died with Facebook.
• “Canandaigua” (“cannan-DAY-gwuh”) is a small city nearby where I live in Western NY. The city is also within a rural town called “Canandaigua.” The name is Indian, and means “Chosen Spot.” It’s about 14 miles east. —I live in the small rural town of West Bloomfield, southeast of Rochester (NY).
• “Strong Hospital” is a large hospital in the southern part of Rochester. My wife’s cancer was treated there. (She also was treated at Thompson-Health.)
• I attended a grief-share last Summer and Fall. Participants are recently bereaved sharing their grief. The advantage to a grief-share is people who understand, being similarly experienced.