So, tomorrow I return to work.
I haven't worked since the first week of February.
What I've gone through since then has been awful, but being home has been good. Very good. I like being home. It's safe. There aren't too many unexpected triggers and stresses, so my days are predictable and my grief is fairly manageable. I don't think it will be that way once I'm working again.
As wonderfully supportive as most of my coworkers have been, it will be hard to see them tomorrow and receive their sympathy. Sympathy is lovely, but it triggers my emotions. I don't want to be emotional at work. That's another reason I want to transfer to another school site. I don't want to face the students and parents next week who know about my situation. I don't want to hear what they have to say or see the pained expressions on their faces. I can't handle it.
If Michael had had life insurance, I would be taking this school year off. I'd get through all these firsts without them sprinkled in with my work life. But he didn't have life insurance.
I tried to get him a policy shortly after we were married, but when he had a physical examination for it they determined that his PSA was too high and they rejected his application. We knew that if he had a biopsy and it came back negative, that they would reconsider his application. He went ahead and had the biopsy, which we needed to do anyway to make sure he didn't have cancer. Ironically, the biopsy came back clear, but of course he had cancer - just not prostate cancer. Anyway, I wanted to move ahead with the life insurance application, but he was resistant because he didn't want to spend the money for it. I gave in.
We both regretted that decision.
And so now, I must go back to work.