I have a confession to make, I have been bit of an ostrich, not like a, “What do you mean George W. Bush sent us into a war that was pure folly? He’s protecting our country.” ostrich, more like a, “You mean the OJ thing is a set-up?” kind of ostrich. Yeah, I know, both are pretty thick, but I feel like I can talk to you on that level.
Sean and I have never broached the issue of life insurance. I think, and again, I realize that this won’t paint me in the kindest light, but I think we’ve both been to afraid to face the issue of mortality, particluarly as we’ve grown our own family and come to realize that we are one another’s best defense.
He is the person I call when I am hurt or angry. He is the person who takes my verbal and physical pummeling when it seems as if the only way to deal with life’s injustices is through a tantrum. He strokes my hair and kisses my brow when I wish the adage about never being able to go home again weren’t so goddamn true. He is there when no one else could ever be enough, and I try to do the same for him. So to talk about not being, we’ve just not had the courage.
Until now, together and breathless as another life grows inside of me. As we huddle with our girls and whisper delicious secrets about the days and years to come, about family trips and special birthdays, about big sisters and little sisters and about our family. We’ve finally done it, we’ve talked about the what if of no longer.
Next week we meet with our insurance guru, one of two brothers who grew up on the very street we are raising our girls. We will answer the medical questions and address the financial needs of a surviving spouse, though it feels for all the world that if I lost him I would be anything but surviving.
I suppose the upside of the terror in this step is the depth of love and blessing it means we have in our life together. Just the same, I’ve like to toast to evermore.
Go hug the ones you love, ok?