Why I Can't Die

•      I am not afraid of dying, although I am intensely curious about the process God has chosen for me. When the worst thing that can happen to me is that I die and go to heaven, it's hard to be fearful. But I feel compelled not to die because of my husband's disability. He is a man. He does not know where things go in the kitchen, though they have been in the same place for 20 years. He is unaware that there is enough food in our pantry and freezer to feed us for months. He doesn't know that I keep a spare bar of soap under the bathroom sink. Why bother when he can just ask me to get it? I am expected to know where everything in our house is located, even items I have never used. We own a lot of things, therefore, I can't die.
•     When we married, Reed only knew how to cook two things:  hamburgers. . . I no longer remember the other one. Neither does he. Now, after 40 years of marriage, Reed can only cook things he can barbecue. Even when dinner consists of microwaving leftovers, he waits for me to choose food for him and heat it up. I refuse to do it, but you see the problem. I can't die.
•      In Reed's world, dirty clothes disappear from the hamper and reappear, folded in his dresser. What happens in between is a mechanical mystery he has no interest in solving. Reed has a hard enough time remembering not to wear ripped, stained clothes to church. If he is ever to appear in public again, I can't die. 
•     When I asked him to vacuum the living room, and Reed didn't know how (or that it was necessary) to empty the dust cup on the Bissell we had owned for seven years, I realized I had spoiled my husband. And, if only for the sake of our nice home, I can't die.
•     Throughout our marriage, Reed has provided nearly all the income with which we pay our bills. Aside from my extreme thriftiness about spending, my financial contributions to our lifestyle would scarcely be missed, but Reed does not know how I pay the bills. Despite numerous nagging attempts, he has no interest in my filing system, the specifics of our budget, or how to use online bill pay. If I die, I'm afraid he will revert to his bachelor system of throwing bills in a random drawer and paying them when he happens to remember. For the sake of our bank and payees, I can't die.
•     Reed handles all sorts of secretarial duties at work, but I am the home office manager. If I'm not what they now call an "administrative professional", I am at least an administrative amateur. If I say so myself, I write a masterfully polite, mean letter. I can dress disapproval in such diplomatic language it is difficult to discern if you are being disrespected. That's why I prefer letters to phone calls, it is hard to be combatively civil on the spur of the moment. Through the years I have written many business letters to appeal, complain etc. Our recent refund of timeshare money is the most lucrative letter writing of my volunteer career. If someone needs to be mean in person or on the phone, I tag in Reed, but if a poisonously polite letter is needed, it's up to me. I can't die.
•      I am even afraid of becoming incapacitated to the point where Reed would answer medical questions on my behalf because he has poor pattern recognition. Yes, he knows that I have high blood pressure, thyroid problems, bad knees and migraines, but he decides at random moments that they have never been this bad before. This doesn't make me feel unnoticed, he is similarly surprised by his own chronic health problems. Though I'm glad Reed doesn't notice how old and fat I have become, I would hate to be in a position where some doctor acts on Reed's that bad information as if it were true. If only to avoid unnecessary testing, I can't die.

    Of course there are many things I would not know how to do if Reed died. Despite watching him replace cords in our pleated shades for 20 years, I don't even know how to remove them from the window. I don't know how to start our gas yard care equipment or repair anything on our car or house. I'm sure our grown children could, and would, help with all those things, but it would be way simpler if Reed also decided    he can't die either.