I remember the words coming out of your mouth so clearly, Grant… of all that I do, all that I did, and what I mostly heard was only one part of it… ‘What kind of caliber woman would do that?’ 

You’d say, “My mom would never do that, and it makes me think what kind, what caliber of woman would do that…” It still stings in my ear… It was a silly thing really that brought on that comment.  I put a cookie sheet away without washing it. 

It had some grease on it and a few crumbs from the cookies I’d just baked.  I figured it didn’t need to be washed because I’d just use it again and I could wipe it off with a paper towel. 

My thought process was that I didn’t need to take the time to wash it when the next time I’d use it, it would probably be for the exact same thing. It didn’t need to be sanitized cause it’d been in the oven and would go back in the oven.  

All that heat kills germs ya know, but I didn’t say that then.  I just looked at Grant, thinking,  “What kind of person do you think I am?’  Are you saying that I’m a low calibur woman because I didn’t wash a pan?  But I just looked at him.  

I can’t remember if I took the pan back out and washed it, or maybe I just left it in the cupboard and didn’t worry about it.  I really don’t remember what I did, but I remember those words. They have stayed with me.  I find myself, proving myself to you over and over again even now.

Especially now that you’re gone, I think, if only you could see me now.  You won’t recognize me.  I know there are things you would love and think… finally!  I’ve been wanting you to do this or be that… 

Other things, you might think, “Well I wasn’t expecting that” or “I'm not sure I like that about you now.” But that’s what happens as time passes, people change.  At least they should.  I know I have.  And yet, those words… “What kind of calibur woman would do that” they stay in my mind. 

I feel as if my value as a woman is defined by my kitchen or pans or anything else that has implied meaning for a woman by the way the world or men or other women have even decided to define that value.  Clean pans?  High value.  

Clean kitchen, nice meals, done hair and make up… having it all together?  Or at least the appearance of it.  Is that what you meant by a high caliber woman?  I don’t know. But what I do know, is that now, I still sometimes put away dirty pans that I’ll use again. 

There are still a few crumbs and some oil.  I get it out and it doesn't bother me.  I get out the dirty pan and use it again and still don’t clean it and put it back again.  Sometimes I do clean my pans before I put them away.  Most of the time I do, but I don’t define my worth as a woman by how I clean my pans.

I wish you hadn’t either.  Maybe you didn’t?  Maybe you just wanted a clean pan and you wanted me to clean it right then.  You could have said that.  Or you could have cleaned it if it bothered you that much.  I know I got it dirty… (baking cookies for you probably).

I didn’t have a problem with a pan that wasn’t perfectly clean, you were the one with that problem.  I know all this and yet even now, I look at my cupboards, organized and tidy, my routine for getting ready. I look at where I put all my makeup and hair stuff away right after I use it. 

I leave a clean bathroom counter everyday.  You would have loved that.  I don’t know that I did that when we were married, because I wasn’t there yet.  I was on a journey and still am. The “caliber” woman I am now, is probably a lot closer to what you wanted for me all the way back then; but I couldn’t quite meet your standards, not yet anyway.  

I’ve made so much progress, you’d be so pleased. If you could see how I keep the house, the kids, the schedule and all the other things I do. You’d be impressed, but even now; I’m still not perfect, nor do I expect to be.  I just orchestrate things as they come.

Sometimes I’m on top of stuff and sometimes I’m behind, but I get it all done.  I’m proud of the way I live my life.  I think you would be too. In those moments when I think, ‘What a mess, this would drive Grant nuts,’ I’m glad you’re not around to be annoyed.  

In those other moments when I’ve got it all together and organized and things are in place and I don’t lose my keys or my phone anymore. When the cupboard is perfectly organized, I think you’d be really happy about all this, but you’re not here to see it. 

For me, I’m pleased with myself and know my worth and that’s how I live. I live in line with the energy of what feels good to me, cause that’s who I am. It's who I’ve always been in the midst of chaos or tranquility, cause I’m that calibur of woman.  

I’m reminded of that phrase and perhaps it has pushed me to be better. It did hurt, but doesn’t anymore.  I smile and close the cupboard door in the bathroom to the perfectly organized shelves.  One of those shelves you still sit on, because I haven’t finished your gravestone. 

Your ashes stay safe and tucked away in my perfectly organized bathroom cupboard.  I think you’d love it there. If only you could see what I’ve done with it, how it looks and how it's all organized.