one last click

I started this blog years ago as a journal – to help me remember things and tell stories, even if only to myself. I decided to share these with a larger audience and folks seem to enjoy some of the posts. This one, however, is going to be melancholy and long – no way around it. I think I need to write it, though, so here it goes.

This one starts years ago, when Jeff and I were together and sharing an apartment. It wasn’t a perfect relationship, but it was good and we were happy. And we took care of each other. There was nothing “official” about the relationship, but it mattered to us and that was enough.

He lost his job suddenly and things went into a tailspin. Not in stellar health to begin with, the thought of him not having health insurance was scary for us both.

To my surprise – despite living in a state so Red it might as well be North Texas – my employer offered insurance benefits to domestic partners. Since, again, nothing official – it was a matter of declaring domestic partnership and adding him to my coverage.

So, I filled out the paperwork, we both signed it and with some trepidation I turned it in. Being “out” at work – even just for HR as far as that went – wasn’t something I did without a lot of thought. The polices might be liberal, but the administration was still conservative.

But, my friends and close colleagues knew already and in any case it was the right thing to do.

I helped him with his resume and his job search and cheered him on at every step of the way. But, that elusive job didn’t come and the stresses started to chip away at us.

It reached a point where we were both miserable with each other and when he got a job offer out of state, I decided to end the relationship and not go with him.

I started looking for a house, but still stayed in the apartment and took care of him when he got sick – and continued the insurance.

But, when the open enrollment period came around again, it was time to make some changes. The relationship was done, I was moving out and to continue would have constituted insurance fraud. So, more paperwork and the domestic partnership was dissolved and he was dropped from my insurance.

It was the right decision – just as adding him was the right decision – but it terrible none the less. I had a lot of those “right and terrible” decisions as that relationship ended…

I was moved out and had started to move on when we lost Jeff. The “right” decisions were cold comfort – I could not have saved him, but perhaps I could have made his last days less miserable.

There was the funeral and the clearing out of his apartment – and more paperwork.

Somewhere in there I had logged into the HR system to check something else and had seen that my profile was still listing that I was in a domestic partnership – even though I had submitted this change and he was no longer on my insurance.

I tried to change it there, but the change wouldn’t stick. And the thought of another trip to HR stirred me up far too much – I just couldn’t do it.

Every time I’m been in the system since then I’ve tried to update it – but nothing I tried would work and I logged out each time feeling terrible.

I had the luxury of time, though, since it was just a line on a computer screen as far as everyone but me was concerned.

Last week, though, I realized I needed to finally do something about it. I’m in a new relationship and while there’s nothing official – there’s an opportunity now with the new laws to make it official.

I needed to get this resolved before it became a problem for Jim and I going forward.

I couldn’t find any forms to resubmit and the online still wasn’t working and so I pulled Jeff’s death certificate from the file and went over to HR on my lunch hour. I didn’t know what I would need, but if it was definitive and final they wanted – I could oblige them.

I checked in at the desk, told them I needed to make a status update to my profile and couldn’t do so online. One of HR folks took me back to her office and I explained that I needed to update my record from domestic partnership to single.

She typed for a bit, clicked on some links, and finally reported that it was only showing in one area that didn’t really impact my status – just the way it was displayed. She updated it and – with one last click – finished the change.

She told me it would go into effect overnight and that was it. I left her office, left the HR department, and went outside.

And I found a quiet place and sat for a few moments to settle myself.

It was just one last click that ultimately didn’t change anything – except, perhaps, for me.

I went back to work and when I got home I filed the death certificate again with a certain amount of relief. It’s a terrible document and it breaks my heart every time I see it.

I’ve said goodbye to Jeff many times and I still think of him – trying to focus on the good times. There are still some memories too troubling to revisit yet, but I think getting that status updated has done me some good.

One last click. Another right decision. Less terrible this time but, just… so sad.

The sun is shining on this cold fall day and I think this is as good a place as any to end this story. There’s a sense of relief and maybe a sense of hope as well.