Finding Meaning in Chaos
Live is messy. Stability is a process.
My world was upended when my wife unexpectedly passed away last November.
Considering the sudden circumstance, how could it not have been?
When not trying to catch up on sleep during the day, courtesy of a subsequent battle with evening insomnia, I spent the last six months incorporating varying modes of self-help into an ever-evolving redefined routine.
The deep depression I experienced in the aftermath of the tragedy aside, I found myself encountering mounting practical difficulties in my adaption to said routine.
I had to learn to manage my new chaos, in so many words, defined as complete disorder and confusion by the New Oxford American Dictionary.
Lorie was largely retired — though we worked on a few entertainment-related projects together here and there — while I continued to write and bring in money. As such, Lorie took it upon herself to do our shopping and cooking, the latter which she especially loved and brought her Zen-like comfort. She took care of the laundry and the dishes.
While I worked and paid the bills with no small degree of tunnel vision, my wife not only took care of our house in general but worked with a financial advisor to invest our money. Because of those…
