It is imperative that I die before my wife does.
NO! This is NOT a suicide note, nor a blog post because of COVID-19. I actually wrote this a few months ago, because weirdly, I’m one who constantly tries to be prepared for the future, and even as a kid, I would worry about my parents dying and me being the person who would need to raise and care for my three younger siblings. It’s how I am, it’s how I’ve always been—a planner who enjoys life a bit more when I am prepared for the worst-case scenario. Of course, due to COVID-19, this blog post is quite relevant to the current situation a bit more then before.
I must die before my wife NOT because I feel she’s a better mother than I. She is a wonderful Mom, but I believe even she’ll admit that I am also a loving and natural mother to our children. Almost to a fault sometimes even, and neglecting my own personal needs. I have to keep reminding myself, “Larisa, you can’t pour from an empty cup.” That reminder hits home since I’m a coffee fiend that understands the lack of results when the coffee is out.
On that note, I’ll be right back. I need another cup of coffee.
So, back to my request to die before my wife does. This plea is for a few major reasons:
First, she has a job that gives us wonderful health insurance. If we were to take the health insurance offered by my employer, only the tongue depressor used in an exam would be covered once per year.
Second, my wife’s job pays a hell of a lot better than mine does. Hers pays well enough that she can afford the mortgage, preschool, the nanny for our youngest, internet, TV, food, legos, and clothes for our children. She can also afford to keep and feed our soon-to-be 13 year-old dog. If she died, my job would only feed us, there would be no more legos, our dog would have to go and live with another family member (probably willingly—he’s had a “go bag” packed since our firstborn was brought home from the hospital), definitely no more TV and internet, and we’d have to rent out our house to supplement our income. We would then be forced to go and live in our tent at a local campground in order to continue saving money. Eventually the authorities would be notified that two young children are permanently living in a campground with their Mom who visually seems like she’s going to have an emotional breakdown at any moment. The kids would be taken away, I would be committed, and then forced to constantly prove I’m a great Mom who should be awarded her kids back to her custody even though we reside in NorCal and I earn wages practically at poverty level.
Fuck.
Okay, perhaps this blog is not just a plea, but a confession of one of my worst fears—my wife dying before me. I should also let you know that this fear’s outcome is similar to another fear I have—my wife divorcing me and I’m kicked out of our home. Again, I have a sleeping bag, a tent, and two camping stoves, but living part-time in a campground with two small children is frowned upon by authorities.
Perhaps, instead of focusing on fears that will most likely never come to see daylight, I should breathe and enjoy the present. I need to look at what I currently have—a smart wife (who hasn’t died nor divorced me yet) who has this beautiful and loving personality and through her consistently calming ways is a solid pillar in our family that supports us (even when she drives us crazy with her iPhone screen time); our two highly energetic ornery sons that brighten our lives even more than we ever imagined; our small bungalow I would never trade for a large house, but wish we had the money to add onto; our cranky, arthritic dog who barks to remind us he’s still alive and we get to enjoy three walks a day with; a job I fairly enjoy, even though I wish I was paid what I’m worth; and lovely campgrounds we can visit on short camping trips, not live permanently in.
Yes, I’ll focus on the positive. Thanks for reading a blog about my crippling fears. I think I’ll schedule a FaceTime session with my therapist right after I check to make sure both boys are breathing, and convince my wife that in the midst of this pandemic and with all the extra time we are spending at home, we should write our Wills. You know…just in case…
Wash your hands people, be safe, and practice physical distancing, but not social distancing!
The campground is always a 1/4 mile away.