We say that. Everyone says it, and everyone lives their life by it.
Yesterday though, in case it happened to me, I arranged my life insurance, critical care cover and beneficiaries thereof. It works out that if I die, or get one of the several diseases or conditions that are covered (and it's fabulous cover, so it will cover it!) then J and the AC, or J and I, get the money to pay off the mortgage and the loan. Also, if I die, then J and the AC get the money from my death in service grant.
It wasn't difficult - although I wept a bit in the bank. But the bank man was very understanding, and it wasn't embarrassing. The question was "Have you every seen the doctor for mental health or depression related issues?" I said yes. The computer asked why. I said grief. The computer asked when was the last time I had an 'attack' that affected me. I looked at Bank Man, and he apologised, and we agreed that it never goes away, that it will always be a part of my soul, that I can't say it will never affect me again, or say when the last 'attack' was.
Last time I thought about him? yesterday morning.
Last time I cried for no reason? about a month ago.
Last time I cried because I heard a song? about a week ago.
Last time I missed Rich so much that I could hardly breathe, so that I couldn't think, so that I just wanted to tumble to the floor and lay there until something else happened, when I was so full of grief and fear and unshed tears? Last day of term last year. It has hit me badly both times, and I think it always will.
So we agreed to tell the computer that it was about a year ago, and the computer was happy with that.
So there we are. I signed the papers, and I have insurance.
When Rich died, he didn't have life insurance. Why would he? It wouldn't cover him for Theatre of War, and we never envisaged there being any other problems. He was going to get some when his divorce came through - the divorce that we had paid for twice. Had the She-Ex had sent the paperwork through for the divorce, we'd have got life insurance and she would have benefited from that as well. Her choices meant she didn't. Life is like that. In a way it was worth all our struggles so that she saw the results of her choices. I wasn't even thinking about money - his death wasn't a financial opportunity for me, it was a massive tragedy. She would have got the dependants allowance that she currently gets - but the AC would have got it as well. But life is like that too. There was the bike insurance, but as we paid for the bike, and we paid the insurance, I had no qualms in claiming that. I could have got more if I had allowed them to sell the bike, but I wanted that widowmaker to be destroyed. There was no reason for the crash you see. No other vehicle involved in the initial incident. Nothing on the road. Even the police said it was one of the most well-maintained bikes they had seen. I know what the eye witnesses said, and that was exactly how I thought it had happened in the beginning. It was just his time to go. Life is like that.
I totalled up what I was worth last night - almost £350,000. But only dead.
Money, contrary to what a lot of people think, and several in particular, money isn't everything. I know that it won't make the pain any less, or the anger, or the frustration. It won't make seeing a loved one on a mortuary slab any easier, or feeling the thinness of their fingers and the coolness of their head. It won't stop the numbness striking in the middle of the day, disabling thought and action for hours on end. But it's going to mean that J and the AC don't have to worry and fight to have somewhere to live, don't have to think about bills and other such stuff.
They can just get on with missing me. As indeed they should, for I am awesome. ;-)