Degrees of Separation

I did not know the pregnant woman who died, leaving behind a young son and a husband. I barely knew her husband when he was a young teenager. I doubt he would remember my name, even if I sent a card. I was just a slightly older teenager who spent summers kissing his older brother. I do feel for the family though and have been praying for them.

I did not know the woman who lived in this house before me. I do know that she had interesting tastes in wallpaper. There are so many various types throughout the house yet if given the choice, I would not have picked out one of them on my own. Not one. However, they seem to fit each room so well. She did a beautiful job with window treatments, too.
She moved out last summer before we moved in and left the curtains and window treatments for us. We still get mail and catalogs bearing her name.
I read in the paper that she died in her new home on Sunday, after an ongoing illness. I wonder if that played a part in their moving from this house. She also left behind a young child and husband.

I am not afraid of dying. I am afraid of leaving my children. (It takes me twenty minutes to leave them with a sitter who is a grown woman and stays with them often. I am always afraid there is something important that I did not take care of or did not tell her.) I had better get organized soon or I don’t know how many people I will have to haunt to make sure my kids are OK.

This is coming from a woman who, during her own childhood, took great pains to explain to her parents that she was quite independent and most certainly did not need them. (My birthday IS on Independence Day, after all!) As it turns out, regardless of how self-sufficient I believe myself to be, I still need to know others are depending on me.

Then again, my husband is depending on my to clear out my “junk.” I guess I had better get that organized before I step out in front of that proverbial bus or he may spend eternity haunting me!