Perspectives

 

Dear Frenchie,

I don’t understand why people assume that when someone dies, the surviving spouse is automatically “taken care of,” or that I should have money to spare. My Uncle Mike is now going to lose his house because the contractor they hired skipped town with their money. I don’t know why they paid him so much up front. He called me, crying, and asked to borrow some cash. Eric, you know how much I love him and Auntie Ann, but you taught me not to do business with family. We’ve been let down by too many people — including family.

You were always the one who handled those kinds of decisions. On top of that, I received a notice from the IRS saying I owe $78,000. I don’t know what to do. Alt Key will review it, but it’s due December 1st — and interest starts accruing daily until it’s paid. Dana won’t settle, and that stresses me out.

On a happier note, I finally finished my sixth year with Dr. Amen and am now legally a certified life coach. I know that would make you smile. I even thought about calling myself The Happiness Junkie. But I’m not going to publish it. You saw how the kids reacted to the first book — and even though I’m starting a new chapter of life without you, I have to protect my heart from being hurt like that again.

I’m finishing the last chapter of Pebbles in My Pockets, but I haven’t decided whether to publish it. Producers from all kinds of agencies have called, wanting to turn I CAN-CER VIVE into a movie. One company even offered to fund the entire production and wanted me on set to ensure it was done tastefully. But if the kids didn’t like me writing a book, they would definitely be against a movie.

The Netflix contract I signed is now null and void — and honestly, that was a blessing in disguise. I still got paid for it. Part of me wants to publish Pebbles in My Pockets because it truly is the story of my life… but telling the kids might trigger something in me and probably in them, too. So for now, I’m keeping it private.

I’ve been studying perspectives, and, wow —do I have different ones now. People act for a reason, and that reason is rooted in our brains. What I’m experiencing — grieving your loss — is very different from the kids losing a father. They do not know our whole story, and I want to keep it that way. They love you from a child’s point of view; they want me to think they knew all our secrets, or even that they knew you better than I did. You and I both know that’s simply not true.

You and I knew everything about each other. We spent over 40 years figuring out life and how to connect with each other. It all comes down to perspective, and mine are mostly good memories. I’ve tried to erase the bad, but I know those struggles taught us how to survive the circumstances we created when we were younger.

I once blamed you for awful things you did to me — but now, after our last night together, your tears when you said, "You are the love of my life, and I am sorry for things I've done to hurt you." That is all I ever wanted to hear from you, acknowledgment. I instantly forgave you for it all.

I also understand that I didn’t come from the same family as you. We entered a relationship with very different perspectives on life, raising kids, your dad, Betty, my mom, and my stepdad. With all that going on, we truly should have taken more time to be present in our marriage. 

I now know that everyone is dealing with something, and even if we don’t share someone’s perspective, that doesn’t diminish their truth. I’ve learned respect and compassion — and that is where I am now.

I love you, babe, and I know you will continue to guide me.

I’m so grateful we were sealed together for eternity. I look forward to holding your hand again.

Love,
Monya