David. I found the diagnostic code reader for the cars in the kitchen drawer. From the website I learned where to plug it in the Honda and I downloaded the manual. Took a reading. Lots of flashing lights. After reading the key I’m really no closer to knowing what the problems are with the Honda.

Got my hands dirty trying to unlock the kayaks from the boat trailer. Think maybe the lock was frozen. I used WD40 and then penetrating oil. Fifty sweaty minutes later after the fourth round of trying every conceivable key on three key chains the lock clicked open. I was close but I didn’t cry.

Day 16.

Maybe I should write to you in the morning when there is a fresh spin on things. By the end of the day I’m…sad.

Today the bluetooth mouse on the computer quit working from one second to the next. I plugged in a USB mouse and it’s working fine. I’m terrified that things will quit and break and stop (like you did) and I won’t know how to fix them (like I couldn’t fix you).

K. and G. invited me to lunch at their house. They are very kind, good people. Three hours into it though I felt unwell. After catching up on all the sailing club machinations, and after having to recount the events leading up to your death, my energy was sapped. Aye! David, I have to resign from the club for now. I’m out. I have no strength for it.

My beat down didn’t stop there. I drove by Dena on the way home and she informed me that one of the headlights was out in the truck. Seriously? WTF! And the service light is on in the truck, too! WHAT?! Both vehicles! Is this a test?

I came home and passed out on the couch. Depression sleeping.

I have about as much ability to structure this website as I do my life right now.

Today I turn in circles within the house and duck whenever cars or people pass.

I did two things to help myself. First, I called R. at the QRP office. I’m sure I took her by surprise when I announced that you had died. Her response seemed flustered and confused. After somewhat startled sympathies her only instruction for me was that there is nothing that I am supposed to do. The QRP status passes on to me automatically. It was a short, unsatisfactory conversation. I should have requested confirmation in writing (if I would ever get it) so that I have something to show the man at the Works Department (another story).

Secondly, I contacted an attorney. You know her. It was with trepidation that I contacted her. I know, I know! Attorneys are expensive. I’m sure that’s not different in Belize. I need help. You would take your time and do it differently. You would call or email anyone and everyone, gathering information and learning the options. Then you might handle it yourself. That’s so like you. I will do my part, drive to Belize City or Belmopan, stand in line and file things but there’s a dearth of  information, no Wikihow, “When your spouse dies and you live in Belize”. There was the Women’s Forum seminar and I reviewed those pages (that we never filled out because we thought we had plenty of time). I know your death certificate has to be filed in Belize City and I know that I need a Grant of Administration. I’ve seen the forms online. The attorney will advise me.

Oh, and yesterday I scheduled the boat take out for Thursday (which means sometime in the next week or two). I just need to make sure I know which keys operate what and take the motor alarm off when it is time. He is going to pull it out and clean it up before parking it in the driveway. Hope it goes well.

Fine. The check engine light came on in the Honda. And so it begins…. It was right after a fill up so maybe the gas cap just isn’t on tight. Don’t you have a diagnostic tool that can check the codes? Well, what does it look like and where is it in the shed? I will look for it but plan on driving the car to Caribbean Tire in Orange Walk. They can run the diagnostic and put on those shocks/struts you purchased. I know the bolts were frozen and you didn’t have a chance to take it over to get them unstuck. Aye! Now someone else is going to do the entire job for you. I know how much you hate having someone else work on your car. Me, too, I feel vulnerable. As for you, that’s what you get for dying. I can’t muster up any anger though, David. I am just sad. Let me know if you think this is a bad plan.