Crazy week!
I went back to work last Monday, teaching two live classes and three online ones. My classes are so full, that I can't possibly add everyone who wants to add.
I must say that my DH was quite considerate to die in July. Since I don't work in the summer, it gave me time to deal with the paperwork, lawyers, etc. Now that the fall is upon us, I can concentrate on what is necessary: work, kids, and home.
The kids started school the next day: my daughter in 10th grade, my son in 6th (middle school!). She was excited to see her friends, and she loves school. He, on the other hand, was scared to death. What if the big kids are mean? What if the lunch is gross? He survived that first day and seems to have adjusted in his first week. Today: the trauma we all remember of P.E. -- undressing in the locker room! He survived that as well.
Then my DH's birthday on Thursday at one of his favorite barbeque restaurants. We were joined by his mother and older sister. There were no tears, just a simple joining of hands to quietly wish him a {happy?} birthday.
Oddly enough, my daughter's birthday is two days later, and he NEVER wanted to share events. My MIL suggested we sing Happy Birthday to her, and celebrate with a sundae. He must be rolling over in his urn!
Friday. The Station fire in Los Angeles inched its way closer to our house. The towering cloud seemed to hover over us, which must mean the prevailing winds were moving it in our direction. However, we had tickets to the Hollywood Bowl with my MIL. I told the kids to pack their suitcases, while I loaded pictures and files into the car. Our fire department has been incredible, and I had every faith in them, but it still seemed practical to prepare.
My son completely lost control, crying, unable to pack, unable to move. He clutched a picture of his dad, sat on his bed, and looked around his room. "We have so many memories here."
I put him on my lap and tried to reassure him as much as possible. Then we screamed to the universe, "We can't take any more! We can't take any more!" He calmed down. We packed it up and went to the Bowl. Lovely show. No texts from my friends about impending doom. Returned home safe and sound. Somehow, everyone slept well with no nightmares in sight.
Saturday. My daughter's 15th birthday! We ate dinner at HER favorite barbeque restaurant, with my mother, sister, nieces, nephew, MIL and SIL. We ate, laughed, and sang.
When we got home, I asked her how her birthday turned out. She said, "It would have been nice if Dad was here." Yes, it would have.
Crazy week. I'm glad it's over, and we can finally settle into the school and afterschool routine.
September 8, 2009
August 30, 2009
Fun, fun, fun!
Lest you think that my marriage was a miserable debacle of fighting about money and lying about money...
The fact is being married to my DH was FUN. No one could make me laugh like he could. He was so friendly, that everyone who met him immediately liked him!
We traveled extensively. Yes, some of the mysterious missing money went into those trips. I don't think it explains ALL the money problems, but we had a blast in Europe, the South Pacific, and the Bahamas. Las Vegas twice a year. Skiing in Mammoth Lakes every spring. Rappeling and spelunking in caves. Paragliding in Interlaken, Switzerland. Parasailing in Lake Tahoe. Sleeping in treehouses in Oregon. Chasing solar eclipses by car or cruise ship.
Yes, he lied that we had the money to pay for it all. Yes, I should have asked more questions...but perhaps I didn't really want to know the truth.
The kids had an adventurous life. He might be gone, but those experiences will be with us forever.
The fact is being married to my DH was FUN. No one could make me laugh like he could. He was so friendly, that everyone who met him immediately liked him!
We traveled extensively. Yes, some of the mysterious missing money went into those trips. I don't think it explains ALL the money problems, but we had a blast in Europe, the South Pacific, and the Bahamas. Las Vegas twice a year. Skiing in Mammoth Lakes every spring. Rappeling and spelunking in caves. Paragliding in Interlaken, Switzerland. Parasailing in Lake Tahoe. Sleeping in treehouses in Oregon. Chasing solar eclipses by car or cruise ship.
Yes, he lied that we had the money to pay for it all. Yes, I should have asked more questions...but perhaps I didn't really want to know the truth.
The kids had an adventurous life. He might be gone, but those experiences will be with us forever.
August 28, 2009
Comfort Zone Camp
Each of us copes in his/her own way. My 11-year-old son does just fine in the daytime, but is having trouble sleeping. He hasn't slept alone in his room since his father died. He'll crawl in bed with me or sister, and he's had a couple sleepovers. My almost-15-year-old daughter said, "It doesn't feel that different. He wasn't around that much anyway." This from a self-proclaimed Daddy's Girl.
There was no way that I could put his ashes into an urn with a bunch of flowers all over it! I do ceramics, and the kids helped me decorate an urn with a Lakers logo, Scooby Doo graphic, a haunted house, and a basketball. There were no tears. They were simply proud of how well it looked.
Every summer I involve the kids in Mom Camp: movies, museums, the beach, theme parks, etc. This summer was no different. We've had fun!
But are the kids coping? Are they in denial? Have they jumped straight to acceptance? They don't want to talk about it, but that might be because they're protecting me.
My sister turned me on to a free camp for kids who are grieving, Comfort Zone Camp. I signed the kids up for September. I hope they will find an outlet for their grief there.
There was no way that I could put his ashes into an urn with a bunch of flowers all over it! I do ceramics, and the kids helped me decorate an urn with a Lakers logo, Scooby Doo graphic, a haunted house, and a basketball. There were no tears. They were simply proud of how well it looked.
Every summer I involve the kids in Mom Camp: movies, museums, the beach, theme parks, etc. This summer was no different. We've had fun!
But are the kids coping? Are they in denial? Have they jumped straight to acceptance? They don't want to talk about it, but that might be because they're protecting me.
My sister turned me on to a free camp for kids who are grieving, Comfort Zone Camp. I signed the kids up for September. I hope they will find an outlet for their grief there.
August 27, 2009
Negotiations...not in my skill set
We (and I use the term loosely) owned a business that had two pieces: the one that made some money and the one that didn't. I'm not a business person in any way, shape, or form. So how do I sell them off? What's involved? How do I protect myself?
The business that made some money involved my DH and a partner, who can keep it going. He's easy to work with, so I don't anticipate any huge problems in selling him my half. Easy, right? Not so! It seems my DH "borrowed" money from this business to keep the other afloat. How much? Who knows? Luckily for me, the partner is a good human being who is willing to share the info he has so we can both make informed decisions. It's my intention to allow him to recover his half of what my DH took...uh, borrowed.
The other business is the nightmare. Appropriate, considering it's a haunted house. There are four haunts. The easy sale: Old Town Haunt in Pasadena to my DH's partner. The other three haunts he did without a partner. What are they worth? Are they just a load of props? Or do potential ticket sales drive a higher price?
{we interrupt our regularly scheduled blog for a description of a phone call. The owner of the building that my DH leased called two days after he died. Did he offer condolences? NO! But he did inform me that he was owed $63,000.}
The owner of said building exhibited erratic behavior. Since I teach Psychology to nursing students, it's my nature to evaluate what I see. Forgetfulness, anger, and a skewed sense of time ("You said you'd call me on Thursday!" "But it's only Tuesday." "Oh, that's right. I forgot."). Looks like a clear case of declined cognitive functioning. Over 80 years old, and it seems he has some form of dementia.
I offered him a large sum; he turned it down. I spoke to potential buyers who were willing to open the haunt in the building, pay the owner more money, then remove everything in November. He turned them down. If they couldn't open the haunt there, the business wasn't worth as much to them, so they offered me less money. I sold it for what I could, leaving next to nothing to pay the owner. To say he's angry is the understatement of the century!
So he filed a lawsuit against a corporation that has no money. My lawyer is going to be my new best friend.
The business that made some money involved my DH and a partner, who can keep it going. He's easy to work with, so I don't anticipate any huge problems in selling him my half. Easy, right? Not so! It seems my DH "borrowed" money from this business to keep the other afloat. How much? Who knows? Luckily for me, the partner is a good human being who is willing to share the info he has so we can both make informed decisions. It's my intention to allow him to recover his half of what my DH took...uh, borrowed.
The other business is the nightmare. Appropriate, considering it's a haunted house. There are four haunts. The easy sale: Old Town Haunt in Pasadena to my DH's partner. The other three haunts he did without a partner. What are they worth? Are they just a load of props? Or do potential ticket sales drive a higher price?
{we interrupt our regularly scheduled blog for a description of a phone call. The owner of the building that my DH leased called two days after he died. Did he offer condolences? NO! But he did inform me that he was owed $63,000.}
The owner of said building exhibited erratic behavior. Since I teach Psychology to nursing students, it's my nature to evaluate what I see. Forgetfulness, anger, and a skewed sense of time ("You said you'd call me on Thursday!" "But it's only Tuesday." "Oh, that's right. I forgot."). Looks like a clear case of declined cognitive functioning. Over 80 years old, and it seems he has some form of dementia.
I offered him a large sum; he turned it down. I spoke to potential buyers who were willing to open the haunt in the building, pay the owner more money, then remove everything in November. He turned them down. If they couldn't open the haunt there, the business wasn't worth as much to them, so they offered me less money. I sold it for what I could, leaving next to nothing to pay the owner. To say he's angry is the understatement of the century!
So he filed a lawsuit against a corporation that has no money. My lawyer is going to be my new best friend.
August 25, 2009
Did he really love me?
As the days passed, I learned that my DH had bigger problems with money than I ever imagined. He liked the green stuff, he just wasn't very good with it.
I used to joke that he was like a compulsive gambler with his businesses: he only saw the potential "winnings", never the real losses. How right I was! He took out credit cards in my name, maxed them out, and didn't pay them. Money from one business was used to fund the other, driving both into a hole.
So I've spent the last few weeks trying to repair my credit, which can be described as an unmitigated disaster, in order to re-fi my house. My kids have lost their father...I don't want them to lose the only home they've ever known.
I know that addicts choose their drug-of-choice over their families, homes, jobs, everything. My husband's drug-of-choice was money. Feeding his addiction took precedence over my need for peace and my children's need for security.
The big question on everyone's mind: where did the money GO? I paid the bills, so it didn't go there. The most popular guesses:
I used to joke that he was like a compulsive gambler with his businesses: he only saw the potential "winnings", never the real losses. How right I was! He took out credit cards in my name, maxed them out, and didn't pay them. Money from one business was used to fund the other, driving both into a hole.
So I've spent the last few weeks trying to repair my credit, which can be described as an unmitigated disaster, in order to re-fi my house. My kids have lost their father...I don't want them to lose the only home they've ever known.
I know that addicts choose their drug-of-choice over their families, homes, jobs, everything. My husband's drug-of-choice was money. Feeding his addiction took precedence over my need for peace and my children's need for security.
The big question on everyone's mind: where did the money GO? I paid the bills, so it didn't go there. The most popular guesses:
- Drugs...no way! He wouldn't even try beer or cigarettes.
- Gambling...no way! His big bets in Vegas amounted to about $200.
- Secret family in Utah (or any other state)...hmmm...nah.
We'll never know.
August 24, 2009
He should have died...
The ways most people thought my DH would die:
- In a car crash, juggling food in one hand, his Blackberry in the other, steering with his knee.
- The rope broke while rappeling.
- Murdered by a rival haunter.
- Choked on a burrito bowl at Chipotle.
- Plane crash on the way to an exotic country.
- Old age.
August 22, 2009
A bigger shock?
Two days after he died, my friend Greg started making phone calls for me. I was busy with the family who flew in from Portland and Toronto. He told me he needed to speak with me privately.
My DH let his life insurance lapse. There would be no money.
My face lost all color and I was in complete shock. For years, I'd joked that he can burn the candle at both ends, just make sure the life insurance was paid for. When money was tight, at least if he'd died, I'd have the life insurance to get back on my feet.
One of the classes I teach includes Elizabeth Kubler-Ross' stages of grief:
Of all the stages, I like anger best. Anger makes you MOVE. It makes you act. Depression is great if you just want to lie around and feel sorry for yourself. Ah...but anger...
It turns out I'd find more than the life insurance debacle to get mad about.
My DH let his life insurance lapse. There would be no money.
My face lost all color and I was in complete shock. For years, I'd joked that he can burn the candle at both ends, just make sure the life insurance was paid for. When money was tight, at least if he'd died, I'd have the life insurance to get back on my feet.
One of the classes I teach includes Elizabeth Kubler-Ross' stages of grief:
- Denial
- Bargaining
- Anger
- Depression
- Acceptance
Of all the stages, I like anger best. Anger makes you MOVE. It makes you act. Depression is great if you just want to lie around and feel sorry for yourself. Ah...but anger...
It turns out I'd find more than the life insurance debacle to get mad about.
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