21 March 2006

Where There's a Will . . .

GH and I were scheduled to attend Part I of "Make-a-Will" class last night. Making a will is something we need to do. It's good to have one if you have kids, for one thing, and if we don't do it before the twins get here, we won't get around to doing it for a long time. It's also good to do if you know that one of you has a terminal illness. So we found a community ed class that would get us a simple, serviceable will for the bargain-basement price of $155. Sweet.

I ended up going to class alone last night. When I got home from a doctor's appointment (more on that later), I found GH in bed with a low-grade fever and body aches. I think the aches are from his white cell shot and the fever is from a possible sinus infection. He felt crappy, and it was clear that he should not be going anywhere. So in ten minutes' time, I ate a quick dinner, made him a smoothie, cried the whole time, stuffed Kleenex in my purse, and ran out the door.

The class was fine. Very straightforward. We'd talked about all the people we wanted to name in the will should something happen to both of us, so I was even able to fill out my paperwork pretty completely.

What was hard was listening to the teacher and the other couples in class (six of them, all around my age) talk about dying and death and what-ifs. For the other students, the idea of dying was incredibly abstract, almost incomprehensible. Some people made joke-like comments about it, surely due to the fact that it's uncomfortable and difficult to contemplate. But everyone was able to talk about it in such a detached, clear-headed way.

For me, it was all to real. But no one in class knew that, and it's not like I was going to tell them as I was barely holding it together to begin with. Luckily it was only an hour and a half and then I got to race home to find GH feeling much better. And I did sit next to another Korean/Caucasian couple in class, which was interesting.

I hate to mix up death and birth, but it's worth mentioning that before class I saw the twins on ultrasound. The appointment involved a lot of waiting around. I hate late afternoon appointments for that very reason. But it was worth it because the doctor declared that the pregnancy was going "perfectly." Our girl weighs in at 1lb 10oz and our boy tips the scales at 1lb 11oz. I don't know how the doctor calculates that, but it sounds good to me. The babies were relatively active on ultrasound, but no punching this time. I could see little spines and little leg bones and hands and feet. So cute! In that ghostly ultrasound way.

3 comments:

Patti said...

I always feel glad that you have at least some happy bits on the rough days. I know it doesn't cancel it out, but I'm glad you are enjoying the babies; you should!

Dorcasina said...

oh, no--mix the good and the bad, the life and death, as much as you can. the separation of them is artificial, and one of my wise, wise friends told me that we must take joy when and where we find it, even in the midst of grief.

You will be glad the will is done, even if miraculously you don't need it. I cannot tell you how much simpler my life has been because my husband and I did wills, health directives, and funeral planning when he was restaged to Stage IV. It was a gift that he gave to me, and that he and I gave to my daughter. I now think it ought to be an obligatory wedding gift for all new couples...

Supa D. Fresh said...

I feel weird commenting late: i hope you are getting these.

I was so impressed how you and your husband dealt with death. I will write a whole entry about our attitudes and how they changed; basically how we got farther apart.

I too believe that writing a will should be part of everyone's premarital counseling.

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