Remembering the bad times is my survival

The video I posted highlighted some of the finer moments of my 24 year relationship with my now deceased husband. I put this together for his memorial 9 days ago.  Technically he is my ex, however, we were divorced only 9 months before I lost him for good.  24 years is a lifetime.  In my mind, and my heart especially, I held onto the hope that we would be reunited.  I prayed for healing, restoration, and a miracle.  Now that he is gone, that hope is gone.  

So, I will refer to Michael as my husband...

I am overwhelmed with the responsibilities that he has left me as the executor of his will.  Had we been living in the same house it might be more simple.  Had my name been on the house title, the title of his truck, etc. I might be able to figure out this mess by myself.  However, he has a mortgage on a home and a lien on a truck that I do not know what to do with.  He has accounts, paperwork, bills, etc. scattered in files, folders, etc. blah blah blah.  And what sucks is that I cannot do ANYTHING until his death certificate has been issued and I have possession of it!  Toxicology reports are still pending and the cause of death is most likely an accident, but it has not been ruled definite.  WHAT A NIGHTMARE!  Who has time to grieve?

Well, I did today.  Gave up on the responsible thing to do and just gave into my heart's cry for release.  I keep hearing people say, "Remember the good times" but the problem with that is that it hurts like hell.  Remembering the good times causes me to feel responsible for his deterioration into alcoholism and death. The guilt is more painful than the grief, for guilt does not allow one to grieve.

It is important that I also "Remember the bad times" because this is the reality that led to my dear husband's death.  He chose the drinking.  He chose the anger and distance.  He set the divorce in action. I have to remember the bad times or I will blame myself for his choices and his demise.