For Six Months After I Buried My Husband and Both My Children, My Family Sent Cheerful Group-Chat Messages and a Party Invitation as if Nothing Had Happened — Then My Name Hit the News Attached to $18.7 Million, and Suddenly Every One of Them Remembered My Number
So I said nothing, and I let the silence be my whole reply, and I turned all of what was left of me toward the terrible clerical work that death leaves behind.
Chapter 6 — The Things They Left
Because grief, I learned, is not only an ocean.
It is also a mountain of paperwork.
Death certificates, in triplicate.
Insurance forms.
Medical records, and police reports, and the settling of accounts, and a hundred small bureaucratic cruelties that require a freshly widowed woman to explain, over and over, to strangers on the phone, that yes, all three of them, yes, at the same time.
I did that work in a house that was still full of them.