The Raccoon vs. The Wids

This is why I love my job. A call came in at work yesterday. The woman sounded distraught. A raccoon had got into the attic of a rental home she owned and she wanted to know if the clean up was covered. I told her I would get back with her. After pulling her file and talking with a co worker about it I called her and advised her to possibly find someone to help her do this. As she clearly became more upset I asked if she had seen the damage. She said no she didn't know where to look to get in the attic. I suggested possibly her husband could find this. She began crying. She told me she didn't have a husband. She was a widow. With three kids. My heart melted. I can't count how many times people have said to me "Why doesn't your husband do this?" "Well, maybe because he is buried in a box in the ground and just can't get out at the moment" is what I feel like saying but don't. I know people don't know. But when you are having one of those days where everything falls apart, as she clearly was, even a simple question like that can get the grief waves to start rolling. So we talked. I asked her how long since he died. She said 7 years. My heart sunk again. All I could think was I do not want to be there in 7 years. I want to love again. Be married again. Share my life again. If it's in God's plans. So the wheels in my head began to spin. I told her I didn't want her to worry about this the rest of the day. To just relax. I would call her tomorrow and we would get this taken care of. So my intentions this morning were to call her, meet her at the house with my ladder, flashlight, shop vac and a mask and see what this little creature has done to her attic. When I called she sounded so much better. She said she had called her Dad and father-in-law and they were going to help her. I told her I was ready if they couldn't. I told her to call me anytime day or night if she just needed an understanding ear from someone who truly gets it. I said I am sure you're husband is very proud of the job you are doing. She said I think he is too. I hated the word widow for a long time. I couldn't even bring myself to say it. Sometime around the one year mark, it became a part of me. That word is like a badge. Of courage. Of strength. Of resilience. Of love. In my mind it says My husband did not leave me, walk out on me, divorce me. He died in the middle of our marriage. I was loved, respected, adored by someone. I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed and rather looking forward to climbing up in the attic and helping her. Doesn't matter though. The Wids won, hands down.