The application asked for marital status. For the first time I had to check widow. Being a widow conjures thoughts of rickety crone hood, ancient and bent with time. I don't think I qualify yet for crone hood status, but the widow part is unstoppable.

My husband was fifty five years old when he died. After only nine years together, he up and died on me. His short illness and subsequent death remains like a whiplash to my being in which there is no cure.

Two short months was all it took. The frenzied parade of doctor visits, tests, and hospital stays were relentless. Little did we know the game was over before it even began? Many say that it is a blessing that the cancer took his life so quickly. True that, but there wasn't a soul that prepared me for the inevitable.

For those that are left behind I've come up with a few tips and realities that may be helpful to you.

1. When the doctors say "Get your affairs in order", they mean it. Don't wait until your spouse or loved one feels up to it, do it now. While medical professionals cannot tell you exactly when death will occur, that phrase means that the grim reaper is sharpening his blade.

2. Funeral directors are expensive and obnoxious. Just when I'd stopped crying long enough to have a coherent thought, this man wanted to know what color of thank you notes I'd like. In my scattered brain, without even thinking, I told him, "Thank you cards for what? Just light the darn oven". He gently explained how they were traditionally used. I wish I could say that I apologized for my directness, but I did not and still wanted to slap the fraudulent look of sympathy off his larcenous face. If your loved one is to be embalmed then buried, just ask yourself how much does few gallons of ethanol, methanol, and formaldehyde cost? Better yet, just how much does a wooden kitchen match cost? The robber barons of yesteryear would switch professions in a heartbeat if they saw the monetary gain funeral directors enjoy.

3. Get plenty of copies of that darned death certificate. Your loved one has died, but neither a business nor government entity will believe you until you furnish the official sacred paper. If you're thinking ten or twelve copies, get twenty or twenty four. Once all have been satisfied, if there are copies left over, the colorful document can be recycled as wrapping paper or wall paper. Martha Stewart would be pleased.

4. Whatever arrangements for the funeral or wake have been made,

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