Gathering outburst of fury
MONDAY, November 9 – Crap day. Cried in the lawyer’s office. Cried while I walked the dog. Cried on the toilet. Cried with Eamonn on my lap. Cried getting dinner ready.
Am I coming out of shock? It’s all true, true to life, and I feel rotten. Anger is boiling up inside me, an outburst of fury is gathering. Anger at the stupidity, the idiocy of traffic. I’m incensed about the motorcycle cop. It all comes together when I happen to see one thoughtless neighbor after another run a red light or fail to stop at a cross walk.
Then the nightmare takes on a new dimension, dear Jennifer, and you can’t do a thing about it. Our mortgage is no longer valid. We bought the apartment less than two months ago, and now it’s about to slip through my fingers. With two incomes we could swing it and we were proud that we’d done it together. But the life insurance policy isn’t valid, since your appointment for the medical checkup was scheduled for three days after your death. Because you’re an American citizen, the notary public needs more information in order to establish the right of inheritance. The police investigation is going to take a while.
Is this only the beginning?
Diary of a Widower 
I hate it when life continues to hammer you after the death of the spouse. I’m sorry about the additional load of pain.
Keep crying though. I cried every day for the first year. It helps you get through the valley.