We got everything done, and done well. Now the shock can finally arrive. It hasn't even been a week yet. His absence doesn't really register yet, and probably won't for a while yet. (Last night I dreamed he was on an ocean liner, and tides rose and fell to such an extent that we could walk out to the boat, out at low tide, 60 miles from high tide.) I'll be tied up with his estate for a while of course, and will have the joy of doing his 2014 taxes. I'm pretty sure the lawyers will do the heavy lifting for the former, though.
There's all the guilt about having wished to have my life back and getting my wish. I know perfectly well that this isn't the way I wanted it back, so hopefully the guilt feelings will be limited. This is the problem with being sane. When you're stuck in an insane situation, you can only wish to be out of it. That's pretty much the definition of sanity. Fortunately, sanity also means not torturing yourself for wishing happiness for yourself. Hopefully, I'll measure up.
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