I lay in bed last night, tossing and turning and wondering why sleep is eluding me. I have taken my sleeping pill, gotten up, laid back down, gotten up, taken some Aleve for the headache I am getting, laid back down, tossed and turned some more, etc. I am totally physically and emotionally exhausted after one of the most challenging days in a long while, yet I cannot sleep. I spent the entire morning sifting through a year’s worth of paperwork, pulling out bills and proof of payment for my husband’s estate and probate. Then I had a sobfest with my therapist and a meeting with my attorney. My attorney had asked for this “proof” only a day earlier and the day before I was to sign the final probate documents; the day before I was supposed to be done. So instead of being done, I am sifting through paperwork and all the while being reminded that he is gone and flooded with horrible illness memories as I collect all the medical bills, etc. I cannot help but wonder, again, why his daughter rejected my reasonable offer to settle and be done back in August 2010. I did not want to have to deal with this additional heartache, but she seems to want more. The reality is that she will get less, but I would have gladly paid more to avoid this arduous task. The really sad truth and maybe the reason for my lack of sleep is that my husband failed to take care of me. I know that he loved me, but here I am still taking care of him and the mess that he left me. I asked him if he had updated his will and he replied with a “Yes”. I should have pressed him for proof or a copy, but I did not. I wanted to believe in him, that he would take care of me. And of course I wanted to deny that the horrible disease could win and take him away. In our relationship, I took care of many things, being the caregiver with the big heart, but I also needed to be cared for. He failed me in the ultimate way. This reality; the heaviness, the pain swirled around all over my body last night not allowing me to sleep. And the tears flowed as I felt the pain. Sometimes, it is so hard to recognize them for who they really were. It does not change my love for him, yet I have to admit that he hurt me deeply. A few sheets of paper with appropriate signatures could have brought me the elusive sleep last night.