King of the Shuffleboard
I'd have to say that my life didn't really begin until Milton died.
We were of that age, you see. He went to the office every day while I stayed home and kept house. That's what we called it back then. There was none of this "domestic engineer" stuff. Women were the keepers of the hearth and home, with food on the table and a peck on the cheek when the husband arrived home. I was always dressed nicely with my hair combed and a touch of lipstick. It was comforting and stable - but it was also lonely.
When they were young, the kids kept me busy, but they grew up and moved away the way they do. When Milton passed, they all came flocking around, helping with the funeral arrangements, holding my hand, waiting for Milty's will to be read. My Milty was a very successful business man. He left each child a nice amount, which they didn't appreciate. And after perfunctory pecks on my cheek and stiff hugs, they all went back to their lives.
I guess they were too busy to really worry about me. I've always been the one to take care of things, take care of them. I suppose it never occurred to them that I might need some help.
I managed. Milton left me plenty of money to live on. He might not have been big on showing affection, but he took care of me financially so that I would never have to worry about money. He also left me with a huge house on a couple of acres in the right part of town. It took me about a year to go through all of our stuff, pare it down to just what I needed and a few things I wanted. I held an "estate sale" and the rest got auctioned off. Even after I paid the auctioneers and the movers, our... my things brought in enough for me to live on even if Milty hadn't left me any money at all. It seems we were quite materialistic coming up. We had the best of everything.
Now I had a bank account full of money and my life unencumbered by things.
I was free. For the first time in 52 years, I was free.