Friday October 28

I spent the day in Ren’s office going through the tax returns trying to find out if he had taken the minimum distribution from the IRA. Ren had paid by check some years, but I can't find any records for two of the years. If I can't find them, we would owe penalties. I am annoyed, as the company didn't send a check automatically as other companies do, our agent never bothered mentioning it, he can't seem to find records for those years, and he told me it was our responsibility anyway. I will have to research further. 

Annoying, but not catastrophic. A good focus for my deep-seated anger at losing Ren.

Daughter 1 and her husband took me to Centannis for dinner. I ordered the pasta, but it was a bit hard and a bit too much. But the company was nice. I still couldn’t finish my wine. For some reason, I’m just not enjoying alcohol. Helen, the English owner/hostess is returning to England in January. Too bad. She is such a welcome face and voice as we walk in the door.

 So many things to do. 

Some things I’m putting off—like getting rid of Ren’s clothes. First the cars and books, then the mess in the garage, But, before either of those, I need to distribute to Ren's cousins the artifacts he has gathered from his side of the family: photographs, history, family trees, etc. And various dishes his mother had collected from the old aunts and her mother. If only I can remember where Ren stored those dishes . . .

Keeping busy stops me thinking too much.