I can't believe it's Thursday already.
Tuesday I didn't do much other than paperwork; I met with my friend and we went over the next chapter in our book club. That was, and always is, so meaningful.
Afterwards, the buyer for the VW brought us (or rather, B brought us) the money for the sale, and the signed bill of sale. We gave him $100 out of it to handle his "fee", and we then drove to the DMV and got J's license renewed, and asked how to get the title replaced for a car I'd inherited from my mom in WA state. Short answer: I have to go to WA state to ask their DMV, because the states don't talk to each other regarding titles/cars.
However. I then went online and found a WA website which spelled out exactly what I need to do: I can either send away for the title (by filling out a form, notarizing it and enclosing $9 and one of my precious copies of the Certified Death Certificate; then in 5-8 weeks I get the replacement title). Or, I can drive to a WA DMV (Vancouver is only a 2-hour drive), do this in person, and pay $59 that day to get the replacement that day. Frankly I'm not in a big hurry, and I sure don't want to waste a day driving. So I think I'll be mailing that form today.
Wednesday we drove down to Eugene. My old BossJ asked me to come and do some data entry for her, and also asked J to move some boxes, preparatory to actually removing all the hundreds of boxes in the storage basement. (That will be a monster job for him...but it'll earn him a lot of money...) So we did that, bringing Murphy. Seeing how Chloe (her Havanese, who is Murphy's half sister) and Murphy met and played and interacted was so much fun! Seeing BossJ was very emotional. We caught up on what was happening in work life, and in personal life. We reconfirmed our friendship, and decided that no matter what happens professionally, we will stay in touch.
We were there til about 12:20, when we left to meet Rob at the Starbucks for coffee. I brought him that etching mom wanted him to have, and we got caught up. I haven't seen him in a couple of years actually; it was a good meeting, and he is the same. He wants to see my sister when she comes out, and made a point of saying he'd drive up (if they are in town).
Today my task is to create something official looking to keep track of what expenses we've paid of mom's or the "Estate's", and what we are reimbursing ourselves, and what of hers we sell, and for how much, etc. I am keeping track in my checkbook, but I need something I can create on the computer and share with my siblings. (At one point I learned how to use a spreadsheet, but I can't remember if I have this on my little notebook computer.)
B's partner Jody called us, in tears, Monday night: Wasn't there anyway we would reconsider our decision? Is there anything they could do or say to encourage us to let them go up to mom's to live? But hey, no pressure!! We totally understand if you don't want to do this...but can you explain again why?? She had called J's phone, but asked to speak to me. Poor J handed me the phone, mouthing to "stay strong!" So I did. I listened patiently, and kept calmly repeating that it wouldn't be a good choice for them, and it wasn't something we felt comfortable about. I had to keep saying it. Yes, our decision was final, I was sorry that they were facing this, and I wished I could give them the answer they wanted, but my siblings and I agreed--we did not want to continue a relationship or have ongoing issues with that property. I kind of exaggerated for effect the negative impact it had had on my psyche, and she kept saying she understood. But then she'd ask another way. Finally she gave up.
Last night she called again, and this time the tone was different; all cheerful, upbeat; would we like to come and take their plants, their growing things whether in ground or in pots, their cedar fencing--because they don't want to leave those things to the property when they have to leave. She went into great detail about what was growing, and how various plants were doing. I agreed we'd be happy to come and look it over, when the time came.
Sigh. I feel for them. Really. But I do not feel it's my responsibility to "fix" their issues. When someone is working that guilt button, it's hard to resist and remember whose responsibility this really is.
And speaking of guilt, I haven't heard from either of my sons in a couple of weeks. I need to look at a map to see how close one son is to the fires in CO. My granddaughter's parents live SE of Denver, and have offered their home to any friend or family who needs refuge. How scary it all is to see on the evening news...My other son is apparently doing well in Reno--if I go by the belief No news is good news. (Which is how I've tried to behave/believe since they left home.)
The quails have shown up each morning, calmly walking into the chicken pen and helping themselves to food. The residents just ignore them. The quails are so pretty!
Yesterday as we left our driveway, I glanced over to our neighbors and saw 6 deer! Four were young bucks, and two were does. All were happily milling about on H&H's lawn, and eating the roses. We pulled over quickly into their driveway, and sat there watching the deer. They were oblivious to us--calmly walking toward us across the lawn toward the car, brushing against the car grill as they passed in front of us heading for the garden, stopping to eat more roses! We were open-mouthed. These deer just looked right at us, sitting in the car. No sign of concern or fear at all.
When J saw them stopping to nibble in their garden, he slowly moved the car in that direction and honked the horn a couple of times. No effect. The deer casually meandered across the garden, investigated the ducks and chickens in their pen, and then took their time crossing the intersection to where the creek continues on the other side. Cars were pulling over, stopping in the road to allow the deer to cross. What a sight. Finally they were all across the street into OSU's property disappearing from view. We continued through the intersection, still disbelieving what we'd just seen, and there were 5 more deer in the field on the right. I was so thrilled. I haven't seen deer here in months, and then we see 11 within 2 minutes. And so close!
Well, it was a great day.
Now it's after 10, and I'm heading out for my walk before the heat kicks in...
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Monday, June 25, 2012
Monday
We spent the weekend pondering a proposition. Friday afternoon B (J's oldest son, the mechanic) and his common-law wife Jody showed up to suggest they move up to mom's and live there, with the eventual plan of buying it if they could find ways of earning enough of an income. They would have brought their 4 teens with them, and dug in, making repairs, tearing down the goat and chicken stuff and then rebuilding. They just wanted a chance; B was there last week for the first time, and was just in love with the place.
Well, we brought up all the negatives, and talked about it in depth, before saying we'd have to discuss this with my other siblings. Which I did---sent them an email with this idea, asking for suggestions, thoughts etc.
I could see how conflicted J was about this. This is his son, who is having serious financial issues. They are about to lose their home to foreclosure. We feel B doesn't handle money well, although he has certainly run a business for years. Eventually the business died, mainly because the shop he was renting was in such bad shape that the owner decided to tear it down. So B had no place to operate his (auto repair) business. While he tried a couple of different locations (friends' garages, his own driveway) none of those worked for long, and now B has no income. They live on food stamps and Jody's ex's child support, and *her* mom's SS money. And whatever repairs he can conjure up. He has several cars he's repaired and so they are all up for sale.
Yet just because he is J's son, doesn't mean we should (or shouldn't) consider any proposition. And we tried to ignore the knowledge that they will be homeless in a couple of months. But in the end, after much discussion back and forth considering all layers of this, it started looking more and more complicated. As my sister pointed out, this is the opposite of "Simplify", which is a recurring theme/desire in both our lives. So J finally late yesterday afternoon told B no, this option wouldn't work out for us. He feels badly, but he is also relieved that this won't be under consideration. He's deeply worried of course, as B is, about what will happen to them next. But that is *their* issue to solve, not ours. And they were quick to reassure us that they understand, and were not counting on this to work, that this was just a seemingly golden opportunity to start over fresh.
Well, fresh for them...but in reality it would have meant us supporting them for a year while they tried to get on their feet.
And we don't want to do this, nor do we have the money to do this. Especially since I'm not working yet.
As it is, I am applying for work at places I really do want to work at; I'm trusting the process. I'm not looking at just any job, not yet. There are enough opportunities here for me to think I can take my time and be choosy for several weeks; then I have to start thinking about less desirable positions such as shift work at the hospital, or weekends.
In between all this discussion, my daughter came up Saturday and we three had an emotional discussion about some drama that had happened at mom's; tears all around, much talking and exchanging of ideas and explanations of why we did or said certain things. This stuff is always so difficult to handle! But at least it's over now, and while tense for awhile, it is always better to get stuff out in the open.
Afterwards we walked the dog, and later still we went over photos and papers and letters, and mementos; she did laundry, and stayed for dinner. We rented the newest Sherlock Holmes movie, and that was good.
And in between all was the opening and sorting/reviewing of various boxes. This morning I realized I hadn't been crosschecking the boxes with the Inventory list... Uh-oh. (But I think I've been mostly going over the boxes that Gramma brought with her originally to WA, so none of those were actually on our Inventory. I think.)
J has been attempting to clean off the furniture, using either vinegar and water, or Murphy's soap to polish and clean and try to remove the smoke smell. He will work out in the carport for awhile on that, and then come inside to rest his wrists for awhile, then go back out. He's also working in the garden when it's not raining, or chopping and bringing in wood if it is raining...it's quiet work for both of us, but very satisfying. I'm so appreciating the down time.
Well, we brought up all the negatives, and talked about it in depth, before saying we'd have to discuss this with my other siblings. Which I did---sent them an email with this idea, asking for suggestions, thoughts etc.
I could see how conflicted J was about this. This is his son, who is having serious financial issues. They are about to lose their home to foreclosure. We feel B doesn't handle money well, although he has certainly run a business for years. Eventually the business died, mainly because the shop he was renting was in such bad shape that the owner decided to tear it down. So B had no place to operate his (auto repair) business. While he tried a couple of different locations (friends' garages, his own driveway) none of those worked for long, and now B has no income. They live on food stamps and Jody's ex's child support, and *her* mom's SS money. And whatever repairs he can conjure up. He has several cars he's repaired and so they are all up for sale.
Yet just because he is J's son, doesn't mean we should (or shouldn't) consider any proposition. And we tried to ignore the knowledge that they will be homeless in a couple of months. But in the end, after much discussion back and forth considering all layers of this, it started looking more and more complicated. As my sister pointed out, this is the opposite of "Simplify", which is a recurring theme/desire in both our lives. So J finally late yesterday afternoon told B no, this option wouldn't work out for us. He feels badly, but he is also relieved that this won't be under consideration. He's deeply worried of course, as B is, about what will happen to them next. But that is *their* issue to solve, not ours. And they were quick to reassure us that they understand, and were not counting on this to work, that this was just a seemingly golden opportunity to start over fresh.
Well, fresh for them...but in reality it would have meant us supporting them for a year while they tried to get on their feet.
And we don't want to do this, nor do we have the money to do this. Especially since I'm not working yet.
As it is, I am applying for work at places I really do want to work at; I'm trusting the process. I'm not looking at just any job, not yet. There are enough opportunities here for me to think I can take my time and be choosy for several weeks; then I have to start thinking about less desirable positions such as shift work at the hospital, or weekends.
In between all this discussion, my daughter came up Saturday and we three had an emotional discussion about some drama that had happened at mom's; tears all around, much talking and exchanging of ideas and explanations of why we did or said certain things. This stuff is always so difficult to handle! But at least it's over now, and while tense for awhile, it is always better to get stuff out in the open.
Afterwards we walked the dog, and later still we went over photos and papers and letters, and mementos; she did laundry, and stayed for dinner. We rented the newest Sherlock Holmes movie, and that was good.
And in between all was the opening and sorting/reviewing of various boxes. This morning I realized I hadn't been crosschecking the boxes with the Inventory list... Uh-oh. (But I think I've been mostly going over the boxes that Gramma brought with her originally to WA, so none of those were actually on our Inventory. I think.)
J has been attempting to clean off the furniture, using either vinegar and water, or Murphy's soap to polish and clean and try to remove the smoke smell. He will work out in the carport for awhile on that, and then come inside to rest his wrists for awhile, then go back out. He's also working in the garden when it's not raining, or chopping and bringing in wood if it is raining...it's quiet work for both of us, but very satisfying. I'm so appreciating the down time.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Friday
Well, it's just amazing what a few days work with a dedicated partner can accomplish. I admire J so much-- sometimes I just cannot believe how lucky I am. He is so hard-working, and together we have made huge inroads.
We sorted all the boxes. They are now in three general areas: papers and misc to sort that were mom's; papers and misc that were Gramma's (or our Family's which need to be kept for posterity); and things that are valuable enough to be sold probably. Part of me really hates the idea of selling them, because they have some sentimental value. Part of me recognizes the practical aspect: we do not have any room. At all. Unless we rent a storage unit, which I will not do.
I would love to keep some of these things, and will do so. That said, I have no idea where to put them, or what to do with them. They are either decorative things, or gorgeous pieces of silver, or china that must have cost a fortune at some point but which we don't like enough to keep and use. So hard to decide. Small frames, highly decorated. Vases which are dented, but made of some kind of metal: brass? pewter? Silver?
So in the afternoons now, I sit in my office, at my beautiful desk (which after a good polishing is just stunning after so many years of neglect at mom's) and go through boxes and files and papers and photos. Mom and Gramma must have kept every single piece of paper. They kept bills, photos, receipts, notes, all letters from everyone, printed out emails, programs from operas or plays, booklets, pamphlets, report cards, postcards. All in no particular order at all.
Well, one box I went through was strictly mom's photos: whenever she got a roll developed, she'd look through it and then toss it in the box. Just randomly. There were some treasures in there; I found all the photos of the summer we had the raccoons, 1969. So many photos of them! They were so cute, and that is a great memory.
In the mornings we do all the other things: I go for my walk, and then we do groceries, or I speak to people about mom's finances, or hit the DMV for J's license renewal, or the bank--I just received my first unemployment check, so we deposited that along with the refund from the Sunshine Recycle people up in WA. Or the garden needs work, or the chicken pen, or cleaning off the back deck so we can sit out there in the sun, listening to the water.
At some point we'll set up a separate bank account for the items sold from mom's "Estate". We'll deposit all proceeds there, and then...what. I don't know. Our lawyer here has told us we need to consult with a lawyer familiar with WA state laws regarding wills, property, and what will happen with the house and land. We'll arrange for that when we go back up in a few weeks. (And why are we going up again? why, to make sure the place is ready for a renter, in case we go that way. Also, many of the items that were supposed to come here didn't make the trip. We assume they are up there still, so we need to get them.) I'm leaving the electricity and phone working, for now, because there is still food in the fridge and freezers, and because occasionally we will want to ask Alan to check on things. He's already replaced the locks, and that makes me feel better. He'll be a good property manager if we decide to rent it out.
The sparrow is still hitting the bathroom window repeatedly. Poor thing. He will attack it for minutes at a time, go away, and then come back, off and on throughout the day.
The chickens are not happy with us; we decided they've been slacking off long enough, and since we are not getting eggs, maybe they just need reminding that's why they are here. So J lets them out of the coop but not the pen. If they've produced an egg or two by the afternoon then we let them out to range, but in the meantime they cluck and fuss off and on all day. Quite loudly. Right now one is in the kennel (which we'd set up for the Buffs originally and just haven't removed) and we think she must be laying an egg. The other three are posting guard around it, and clucking non-stop. I love hearing them, really. Sometimes they actually sound worried, other times it's clearly frustration, and other times it's an indicator that they are comfortable, like a cat purring.
Today is grey, cloudy; it rained during the night and is supposed to all weekend. After several days of sunshine and warmth, this is a nice change. We've got a fire going, and this will be an inside day. When I look at the weather in other parts of the country, I'm very grateful we are here.
I need to update my resume so I'd emailed my (former) BossJ last night and asked her to send it via email to my home, which she will do. She asked if we/J could come down next Wednesday and take some boxes down to the basement, and later this summer J will have the monstrous task of removing all the boxes from that same basement storage. That will be a long hard job, but she pays well! She will bring her little Havanese, and of course I'll bring Murphy and we'll let them play together. It was just a year ago that she lost her sister to cancer, quite suddenly. I remember she was off work for 2 weeks back then, and it felt strange to be the only one in the office. But since last September I also have been the only one there for 90% of the time. Funny how you get used to things.
And funny how it all changes.
We sorted all the boxes. They are now in three general areas: papers and misc to sort that were mom's; papers and misc that were Gramma's (or our Family's which need to be kept for posterity); and things that are valuable enough to be sold probably. Part of me really hates the idea of selling them, because they have some sentimental value. Part of me recognizes the practical aspect: we do not have any room. At all. Unless we rent a storage unit, which I will not do.
I would love to keep some of these things, and will do so. That said, I have no idea where to put them, or what to do with them. They are either decorative things, or gorgeous pieces of silver, or china that must have cost a fortune at some point but which we don't like enough to keep and use. So hard to decide. Small frames, highly decorated. Vases which are dented, but made of some kind of metal: brass? pewter? Silver?
So in the afternoons now, I sit in my office, at my beautiful desk (which after a good polishing is just stunning after so many years of neglect at mom's) and go through boxes and files and papers and photos. Mom and Gramma must have kept every single piece of paper. They kept bills, photos, receipts, notes, all letters from everyone, printed out emails, programs from operas or plays, booklets, pamphlets, report cards, postcards. All in no particular order at all.
Well, one box I went through was strictly mom's photos: whenever she got a roll developed, she'd look through it and then toss it in the box. Just randomly. There were some treasures in there; I found all the photos of the summer we had the raccoons, 1969. So many photos of them! They were so cute, and that is a great memory.
In the mornings we do all the other things: I go for my walk, and then we do groceries, or I speak to people about mom's finances, or hit the DMV for J's license renewal, or the bank--I just received my first unemployment check, so we deposited that along with the refund from the Sunshine Recycle people up in WA. Or the garden needs work, or the chicken pen, or cleaning off the back deck so we can sit out there in the sun, listening to the water.
At some point we'll set up a separate bank account for the items sold from mom's "Estate". We'll deposit all proceeds there, and then...what. I don't know. Our lawyer here has told us we need to consult with a lawyer familiar with WA state laws regarding wills, property, and what will happen with the house and land. We'll arrange for that when we go back up in a few weeks. (And why are we going up again? why, to make sure the place is ready for a renter, in case we go that way. Also, many of the items that were supposed to come here didn't make the trip. We assume they are up there still, so we need to get them.) I'm leaving the electricity and phone working, for now, because there is still food in the fridge and freezers, and because occasionally we will want to ask Alan to check on things. He's already replaced the locks, and that makes me feel better. He'll be a good property manager if we decide to rent it out.
The sparrow is still hitting the bathroom window repeatedly. Poor thing. He will attack it for minutes at a time, go away, and then come back, off and on throughout the day.
The chickens are not happy with us; we decided they've been slacking off long enough, and since we are not getting eggs, maybe they just need reminding that's why they are here. So J lets them out of the coop but not the pen. If they've produced an egg or two by the afternoon then we let them out to range, but in the meantime they cluck and fuss off and on all day. Quite loudly. Right now one is in the kennel (which we'd set up for the Buffs originally and just haven't removed) and we think she must be laying an egg. The other three are posting guard around it, and clucking non-stop. I love hearing them, really. Sometimes they actually sound worried, other times it's clearly frustration, and other times it's an indicator that they are comfortable, like a cat purring.
Today is grey, cloudy; it rained during the night and is supposed to all weekend. After several days of sunshine and warmth, this is a nice change. We've got a fire going, and this will be an inside day. When I look at the weather in other parts of the country, I'm very grateful we are here.
I need to update my resume so I'd emailed my (former) BossJ last night and asked her to send it via email to my home, which she will do. She asked if we/J could come down next Wednesday and take some boxes down to the basement, and later this summer J will have the monstrous task of removing all the boxes from that same basement storage. That will be a long hard job, but she pays well! She will bring her little Havanese, and of course I'll bring Murphy and we'll let them play together. It was just a year ago that she lost her sister to cancer, quite suddenly. I remember she was off work for 2 weeks back then, and it felt strange to be the only one in the office. But since last September I also have been the only one there for 90% of the time. Funny how you get used to things.
And funny how it all changes.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Tuesday
TODAY. OMG. So much to do. We are now keeping daily running lists of what has to be accomplished every day, and it's ridiculous how much is expected/demanded/planned. Some of this list is self-imposed, some is based on rapidly changing knowledge: suddenly we realize that something is happening on a certain date and therefore we need to get something-related done before that date. Like tomorrow, J's son leaves for mom's to get the VW towed back down here, therefore we need to produce a bill of sale today. I cannot find the title, but I did find the original bill of sale from 1971...so we will create our own bill of sale.
OH--I've just this moment looked up to the chicken pen, only to see a pair of quail! Inside the pen area!! I'm so excited I cannot even type properly....they are wandering around inside, taking a dust bath...so cute!! Our chickens are not even making a fuss, but just calmly watching them eat the scratch, and wander around.
Okay, back to the Day ahead.
S graduated from the UofO yesterday, and that was a nice day-- although we had to sit outside and it was raining off and on. (She doesn't seem to remember that she'd told us she was *not* going to participate, so I'd made plans. But I was able to change those fairly easily, and that worked out okay.)
One thing I didn't do was remember to bring the camera--- and then also forgot to take photos with even my phone's camera. I didn't even realize that until this morning's picture on facebook, where Lori (S's mentor) had taken a photo of S with her local grandmother. Interestingly, that grandmother attended with her son, who is my ex, and yet he refused to join us after the ceremony. J and I had to first leave before he would come over to congratulate S. Sigh.
We agreed to meet S and Lori back at her house shortly afterward, as Lori so sweetly provided a lunch and dessert celebration for S...we brought flowers for both as Lori had just graduated the day before with her Master's, and a little gift baggie. S's "main present" (at her request) was the flat screen tv that had belonged to my mom, so I agreed. I also gave her the Bible that had belonged to my mom or at least I thought I had--turns out there was a kind of instruction hymnal which I confused with the Bible. However, I have the Bible here, and will get it to her...
When I called in to the Unemployment office Sunday to claim a week of benefits, turns out I have to provide 3 places where I've tried to obtain work. And I also have to list where and how I've applied, and what position I applied for! Rats....I don't think I will have much trouble finding a job so I was thinking I could just kind of...coast...for a few weeks til I'm emotionally ready to work full-time again. This way though I will have to actually apply. (Frankly, only because they might try to verify that I've done so. If I don't, then they could not pay me a week.)
Well, I guess I will just have to do so, and trust that my higher power will direct me to the right job at the right time. In the meantime I need to hustle and go through as many of the boxes and chores that I can. Sometimes I just let myself cry, because there is so much to do. I don't know how I can get it all done. But I believe that's a sign I need to work on my faith.
I don't need to do this alone. Right now I just need to, with J's help, sort the boxes first into stuff I need to do *now*, and then the stuff that can wait for my sister's assistance.
Such a nice thing happened Sunday afternoon. I was online, checking mom's email for bills, and my cell rang, from a number I didn't recognize. I answered, and a very animated older man's voice jumped in, "E? This is Stockett...!", and we proceeded to have a 20 minute conversation. What a delightful man!
This is Uncle Dean's son. I vaguely remember Uncle Dean, meeting him as a very young child. Stockett is 88 years old, one of mom's older cousins. I'd written to notify him of mom's death, since he was helping her financially a bit. Never did I expect to hear from him. I wonder if he knew of me; he was very interested in exactly who I was ("Helena's oldest daughter, you say??"), and where I lived, and if I had any brothers or sisters, kids of my own, where everyone was living. He was absolutely overjoyed to discover that my sister and brother also live in Florida, and promptly suggested we (here and in FL) all fly down to have a 'grand celebration!' He is in Naples.
He sounds like a real character, and I can't wait to someday meet him. Told me some WWII stories. He collects "cars and airplanes". Jeez. Has 17 cars. Said he spends most days "at the hangar", so it's best if I or my sister and brother call him in the late afternoon when he's home. What a hoot. He has 4 grown kids, and 12 grandchildren, all as scattered about as we are. I will be passing along his address and phone to my siblings, and hope they follow up with him. Very easy to talk to, and thrilled to have more relatives.
Time to get started on my day. At least my sister is now home in FL, safe and sound, and beginning her unpacking and sorting, too.
OH--I've just this moment looked up to the chicken pen, only to see a pair of quail! Inside the pen area!! I'm so excited I cannot even type properly....they are wandering around inside, taking a dust bath...so cute!! Our chickens are not even making a fuss, but just calmly watching them eat the scratch, and wander around.
Okay, back to the Day ahead.
S graduated from the UofO yesterday, and that was a nice day-- although we had to sit outside and it was raining off and on. (She doesn't seem to remember that she'd told us she was *not* going to participate, so I'd made plans. But I was able to change those fairly easily, and that worked out okay.)
One thing I didn't do was remember to bring the camera--- and then also forgot to take photos with even my phone's camera. I didn't even realize that until this morning's picture on facebook, where Lori (S's mentor) had taken a photo of S with her local grandmother. Interestingly, that grandmother attended with her son, who is my ex, and yet he refused to join us after the ceremony. J and I had to first leave before he would come over to congratulate S. Sigh.
We agreed to meet S and Lori back at her house shortly afterward, as Lori so sweetly provided a lunch and dessert celebration for S...we brought flowers for both as Lori had just graduated the day before with her Master's, and a little gift baggie. S's "main present" (at her request) was the flat screen tv that had belonged to my mom, so I agreed. I also gave her the Bible that had belonged to my mom or at least I thought I had--turns out there was a kind of instruction hymnal which I confused with the Bible. However, I have the Bible here, and will get it to her...
When I called in to the Unemployment office Sunday to claim a week of benefits, turns out I have to provide 3 places where I've tried to obtain work. And I also have to list where and how I've applied, and what position I applied for! Rats....I don't think I will have much trouble finding a job so I was thinking I could just kind of...coast...for a few weeks til I'm emotionally ready to work full-time again. This way though I will have to actually apply. (Frankly, only because they might try to verify that I've done so. If I don't, then they could not pay me a week.)
Well, I guess I will just have to do so, and trust that my higher power will direct me to the right job at the right time. In the meantime I need to hustle and go through as many of the boxes and chores that I can. Sometimes I just let myself cry, because there is so much to do. I don't know how I can get it all done. But I believe that's a sign I need to work on my faith.
I don't need to do this alone. Right now I just need to, with J's help, sort the boxes first into stuff I need to do *now*, and then the stuff that can wait for my sister's assistance.
Such a nice thing happened Sunday afternoon. I was online, checking mom's email for bills, and my cell rang, from a number I didn't recognize. I answered, and a very animated older man's voice jumped in, "E? This is Stockett...!", and we proceeded to have a 20 minute conversation. What a delightful man!
This is Uncle Dean's son. I vaguely remember Uncle Dean, meeting him as a very young child. Stockett is 88 years old, one of mom's older cousins. I'd written to notify him of mom's death, since he was helping her financially a bit. Never did I expect to hear from him. I wonder if he knew of me; he was very interested in exactly who I was ("Helena's oldest daughter, you say??"), and where I lived, and if I had any brothers or sisters, kids of my own, where everyone was living. He was absolutely overjoyed to discover that my sister and brother also live in Florida, and promptly suggested we (here and in FL) all fly down to have a 'grand celebration!' He is in Naples.
He sounds like a real character, and I can't wait to someday meet him. Told me some WWII stories. He collects "cars and airplanes". Jeez. Has 17 cars. Said he spends most days "at the hangar", so it's best if I or my sister and brother call him in the late afternoon when he's home. What a hoot. He has 4 grown kids, and 12 grandchildren, all as scattered about as we are. I will be passing along his address and phone to my siblings, and hope they follow up with him. Very easy to talk to, and thrilled to have more relatives.
Time to get started on my day. At least my sister is now home in FL, safe and sound, and beginning her unpacking and sorting, too.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Saturday
Today I went to my meeting. First time in weeks, and wow, was it needed, necessary, and wonderful. They all are really...but this one was because of the number of people who stopped to talk to me, expressing support, love, sadness. I am very lucky.
When I got home I discovered the ashes had arrived. I'm leaving them in their box, because I don't know what to do with them.
We left mom's Wednesday afternoon, around 2pm. I couldn't believe we were really packed and ready, but once I realized we were, I didn't want to sit and wait til the next morning to leave. J was just beat--he'd been up since 5, Faron arrived at 9 in the pouring rain, and poor D was deeply in pain with a back injury. Yet somehow we all got two moving vans loaded with furniture and hundreds of boxes, the cats in their carriers, piles of trash outside, and most of the details sorted all by 130.
Once I realized that there was no reason to stay, I said we were leaving, today, now. And 30 minutes later we were all gone. M and D had loaded the kitties in their van, and we hugged tearfully, and they were gone, heading east and south, to drive home to Florida.
M and I are forever changed, forever bonded in this way. Not that we weren't before...but it's different now.
I led our little procession in the Lincoln with Murphy, S followed driving the Honda, and J drove the van. I'd been a passenger in it the day before when the four of us drove into Spokane to finally take the trucks. I have never sat that high up above the road, ever. Very weird feeling. Since it was a brand new van it was even more unnerving driving it. We had the extra accident insurance on it, for $25, and that was a huge relief.
We drove all day, into the night, and pulled into our very own driveway around 1030. J was a little behind, so we unloaded the cars, and had a chance to get the house warmed up and feeling homey.
Thursday we all 3 unloaded the truck, and then S left for her own home. Tears and hugs all around, and once again acknowledging everything is different now. Later we returned the van and hit the bank and got some groceries, and washed the car--washing all the dirt and dust and dryness off really helps.
Friday J had a doctor appt, and I needed to visit the unemployment office in person for a "welcome meeting", and then to get officially registered in the System, take some reading and math tests, blah blah blah. I am so relieved that the Unemployment benefits will be enough to get by with. I don't know when they will start, but it probably won't be til next week. Having to be out of state for more than 3 days disqualifies me for an entire week; they don't care that you were dealing with a death in the family, they just know you weren't looking for work. Sigh.
But good news: we found a buyer for the VW, so J's son is driving up to mom's next week to tow it back down here, to the local who wants it. $1000. That will help.
I know there is more we are dealing with...but I'm still feeling so frazzled, so disjointed. I woke up during the night and could not remember where I was. Later (it was a very restless night) I dreamed about mom for the first time: I don't remember any of details, but she was sick. It didn't disturb me, but I was a bit startled. Somehow I hadn't anticipated that.
We have a garden which has been sorely neglected, we lost one of the new Buffs, there is a determined sparrow throwing himself against the bathroom window for hours at a time. My list of things to do feels endless: obituary, notifying creditors, reconciling trip expenses, unpacking and sorting boxes, finding an antiques dealer/appraiser, getting the air conditioner hooked up (it's over 85 today....). Inventories, laundry, appraisers for the paintings. Emails to friends, mom's emails. Over 150 in her inbox. Cleaning out her laptop.
My kitties were SO glad to see us. Cinnamon has been close by, or curled up in my dresser drawer; Sheba calls at night, but when I go to her she stops immediately and settles next to me on the sofa. She won't sleep on the bed, unfortunately.
Almost every single finger and toenail has been broken or caught on something; I guess it was from the overload of dust and boxes and packing. I'm so tired; I've napped every single day, and still fall into bed by 9. This morning I even slept til 8am. That is just so not like me.
Almost 2pm now. J is just beginning his first day of filming in the movie up in Portland this afternoon. He left at noon, and will be back by 8 or so. Then next weekend it's both days, longer hours. He's very excited, and very nervous, but I know he'll do fine. I can't wait to see the final product.
I've written long enough...must jump on the To-Do list.
And my sister and BIL are still driving...
When I got home I discovered the ashes had arrived. I'm leaving them in their box, because I don't know what to do with them.
We left mom's Wednesday afternoon, around 2pm. I couldn't believe we were really packed and ready, but once I realized we were, I didn't want to sit and wait til the next morning to leave. J was just beat--he'd been up since 5, Faron arrived at 9 in the pouring rain, and poor D was deeply in pain with a back injury. Yet somehow we all got two moving vans loaded with furniture and hundreds of boxes, the cats in their carriers, piles of trash outside, and most of the details sorted all by 130.
Once I realized that there was no reason to stay, I said we were leaving, today, now. And 30 minutes later we were all gone. M and D had loaded the kitties in their van, and we hugged tearfully, and they were gone, heading east and south, to drive home to Florida.
M and I are forever changed, forever bonded in this way. Not that we weren't before...but it's different now.
I led our little procession in the Lincoln with Murphy, S followed driving the Honda, and J drove the van. I'd been a passenger in it the day before when the four of us drove into Spokane to finally take the trucks. I have never sat that high up above the road, ever. Very weird feeling. Since it was a brand new van it was even more unnerving driving it. We had the extra accident insurance on it, for $25, and that was a huge relief.
We drove all day, into the night, and pulled into our very own driveway around 1030. J was a little behind, so we unloaded the cars, and had a chance to get the house warmed up and feeling homey.
Thursday we all 3 unloaded the truck, and then S left for her own home. Tears and hugs all around, and once again acknowledging everything is different now. Later we returned the van and hit the bank and got some groceries, and washed the car--washing all the dirt and dust and dryness off really helps.
Friday J had a doctor appt, and I needed to visit the unemployment office in person for a "welcome meeting", and then to get officially registered in the System, take some reading and math tests, blah blah blah. I am so relieved that the Unemployment benefits will be enough to get by with. I don't know when they will start, but it probably won't be til next week. Having to be out of state for more than 3 days disqualifies me for an entire week; they don't care that you were dealing with a death in the family, they just know you weren't looking for work. Sigh.
But good news: we found a buyer for the VW, so J's son is driving up to mom's next week to tow it back down here, to the local who wants it. $1000. That will help.
I know there is more we are dealing with...but I'm still feeling so frazzled, so disjointed. I woke up during the night and could not remember where I was. Later (it was a very restless night) I dreamed about mom for the first time: I don't remember any of details, but she was sick. It didn't disturb me, but I was a bit startled. Somehow I hadn't anticipated that.
We have a garden which has been sorely neglected, we lost one of the new Buffs, there is a determined sparrow throwing himself against the bathroom window for hours at a time. My list of things to do feels endless: obituary, notifying creditors, reconciling trip expenses, unpacking and sorting boxes, finding an antiques dealer/appraiser, getting the air conditioner hooked up (it's over 85 today....). Inventories, laundry, appraisers for the paintings. Emails to friends, mom's emails. Over 150 in her inbox. Cleaning out her laptop.
My kitties were SO glad to see us. Cinnamon has been close by, or curled up in my dresser drawer; Sheba calls at night, but when I go to her she stops immediately and settles next to me on the sofa. She won't sleep on the bed, unfortunately.
Almost every single finger and toenail has been broken or caught on something; I guess it was from the overload of dust and boxes and packing. I'm so tired; I've napped every single day, and still fall into bed by 9. This morning I even slept til 8am. That is just so not like me.
Almost 2pm now. J is just beginning his first day of filming in the movie up in Portland this afternoon. He left at noon, and will be back by 8 or so. Then next weekend it's both days, longer hours. He's very excited, and very nervous, but I know he'll do fine. I can't wait to see the final product.
I've written long enough...must jump on the To-Do list.
And my sister and BIL are still driving...
Monday, June 11, 2012
Monday
Today is another big day. (What day hasn't been?) Every day since Friday has been stuffed full. To the point that we are utterly exhausted every single day.
M's husband arrived Saturday afternoon and then my husband and daughter arrived around 6.
Janet, mom's friend, brought a huge pot of chili for us that night. That woman is a saint--we really like her a lot.
Lyn, the woman who was going to take the dog and cats, arrived Friday morning, and my sister and I were expecting her to let us know what day she would be taking them. In fact, she sobbingly informed us she could not take them after all. At all. Oh, the drama; she was just all over the place, waving her arms, sobbing loudly, apologizing, explaining, blah blah blah. She felt guilty, but she just couldn't do it, they were too old. She'd known this for months, had known this even at her recent visit here with mom just 2 weeks ago, and never said a word, fearing to upset and worry mom in her final days.
Once M and I got over that shock, we began brainstorming, and so did Lyn. She promised to take care of it, felt responsible, gave us several options, and talkedtalkedtalked for a good 90minutes. Meanwhile M and I were beginning to realize this woman was a bigger mess than we'd thought at first, and were subtle-y trying to move her out the door. She would have been happy to sit and yak all day. Finally we (and by we I mean M) had to just say, politely and firmly, "You know, we don't have time to talk, we have a ton of stuff to do...can you leave us in peace on this day, the first since our mother died?" (Yes, we played the drama card too. And oh, did she understand that.) She finally left, promising to come back Sunday.
When I told Alan, he just freaked out: he was just as shocked at this as we were. He and his wife have dealt with Lyn before, and yet even he hadn't seen this coming. He promptly set to work putting the word out among the community. He eventually found someone he works with, who showed up yesterday afternoon and met Grace; not only was there an instant bonding, but Raney wants the goats and the remaining peahen and goose. She'll come Tuesday to transport the new family to her house, just a few miles down the road. Alan's other friend/neighbor took the chickens and roosters Friday morning. So all animals except the cats are taken care of. Lyn felt responsible for that too, and is "working on" finding a home for them. (Meanwhile, we are not telling her unless the only left is the Humane Society, but M and her husband will take the cats; reluctantly, but they will, preferring not to see the two orange cats separated...)
Every single day we have been filling bag after bag after bag, endlessly trucking them out the door to the growing trash pile. Literally I think we've taken 2 tons (or rather, Alan and Angela will be taking 2 tons), total, to the dump. I think cleaning out the pantry was the worst job I have ever done. Ever. I don't even want to recreate it here for posterity: it was a nightmare. What a waste, such a waste!! all the years she has been here, and 98% of the foods she has stored in cans, dried, frozen, jars, boxes, and in gallon buckets is inedible. All to the dump. I have to keep reminding myself she has not only been physically sick, but leaning toward mentally ill/indisposed also. I was so angry cleaning that stuff out...couldn't breathe. OK--stop.
Then going through the papers on her desk, and on Gramma's desk; I lost track of the number of bags I've gotten rid of... Had to call M while she and D were in town for boxes to bring home more trash bags, too. We've gone through at least 150 trash bags.
Now it's Monday morning, and I've just called the cremation place, asking when I can pick up the ashes. The very nice lady calmly said, oh we haven't done anything yet, because you need to fill out the paperwork... Internally I flipped out. Externally, I said, calmly, well, no one told us that, and so how long will it take? Well, you need to fill out the papers, and then we can try, but I don't know if the ashes will be ready by Wednesday... I reminded her we had filled out the preregistration forms 3 weeks ago, and so now she is looking for them. She said she'd tried to reach me Friday but clearly didn't have the right number. So she will look for the paperwork and call me back. GOOD GOD IN HEAVEN.
Okay, breathe...
Today we are packing boxes and photos and paintings... photos of each painting, numbering them on our itemized list. Today there are two medical supply trucks coming to pick up rented equipment, Angela arrives with her trailer, Alan arrives with his trailer, I need to run over to the PO on the reservation to put in a forwarding address (mine), and also return the giganto crockpot of chili to Janet; (also last night two other neighbors brought us two huge tinfoil containers holding 4 baked chickens on beds of stuffing). We have enough food to feed an army, as they say. What we will do with it I do not know.
M and I are trying not to lose it. There was drama with S of course regarding Lyn, and where the dog/goats/cats/peahen/goose are all going. Tears all around, making up, more wine, food, resting after working ourselves to the point of utter frustration. Then we all calm down and start all over.
One nice thing: my dear old German teacher Warren DeFrank called me Saturday morning. He lives in Florida, and we've been in touch via email for years, but haven't spoken. Yet he called to express condolences and catch up. It was so sweet, so thoughtful.
There are many nice things happening, of course. I don't know why I am focusing on the negatives. Maybe because I am so tired. But things are falling into place, Raney taking the animals is a godsend. Whenever we have an issue, um... a problem, solutions magically appear as if Someone is handling things. Imagine that. Which is just amazing. I'm constantly thanking God. Despite my own drama (in my head) I am full of thanks, and gratitude at my family being here. And the idea that this is a bonding time. Such sadness and grief, and yet we have leaned on each other and renewed our family closeness. I will always be deeply grateful for the strengthening of our ties, and for my sister especially, taking so much time to be here with me.
M's husband arrived Saturday afternoon and then my husband and daughter arrived around 6.
Janet, mom's friend, brought a huge pot of chili for us that night. That woman is a saint--we really like her a lot.
Lyn, the woman who was going to take the dog and cats, arrived Friday morning, and my sister and I were expecting her to let us know what day she would be taking them. In fact, she sobbingly informed us she could not take them after all. At all. Oh, the drama; she was just all over the place, waving her arms, sobbing loudly, apologizing, explaining, blah blah blah. She felt guilty, but she just couldn't do it, they were too old. She'd known this for months, had known this even at her recent visit here with mom just 2 weeks ago, and never said a word, fearing to upset and worry mom in her final days.
Once M and I got over that shock, we began brainstorming, and so did Lyn. She promised to take care of it, felt responsible, gave us several options, and talkedtalkedtalked for a good 90minutes. Meanwhile M and I were beginning to realize this woman was a bigger mess than we'd thought at first, and were subtle-y trying to move her out the door. She would have been happy to sit and yak all day. Finally we (and by we I mean M) had to just say, politely and firmly, "You know, we don't have time to talk, we have a ton of stuff to do...can you leave us in peace on this day, the first since our mother died?" (Yes, we played the drama card too. And oh, did she understand that.) She finally left, promising to come back Sunday.
When I told Alan, he just freaked out: he was just as shocked at this as we were. He and his wife have dealt with Lyn before, and yet even he hadn't seen this coming. He promptly set to work putting the word out among the community. He eventually found someone he works with, who showed up yesterday afternoon and met Grace; not only was there an instant bonding, but Raney wants the goats and the remaining peahen and goose. She'll come Tuesday to transport the new family to her house, just a few miles down the road. Alan's other friend/neighbor took the chickens and roosters Friday morning. So all animals except the cats are taken care of. Lyn felt responsible for that too, and is "working on" finding a home for them. (Meanwhile, we are not telling her unless the only left is the Humane Society, but M and her husband will take the cats; reluctantly, but they will, preferring not to see the two orange cats separated...)
Every single day we have been filling bag after bag after bag, endlessly trucking them out the door to the growing trash pile. Literally I think we've taken 2 tons (or rather, Alan and Angela will be taking 2 tons), total, to the dump. I think cleaning out the pantry was the worst job I have ever done. Ever. I don't even want to recreate it here for posterity: it was a nightmare. What a waste, such a waste!! all the years she has been here, and 98% of the foods she has stored in cans, dried, frozen, jars, boxes, and in gallon buckets is inedible. All to the dump. I have to keep reminding myself she has not only been physically sick, but leaning toward mentally ill/indisposed also. I was so angry cleaning that stuff out...couldn't breathe. OK--stop.
Then going through the papers on her desk, and on Gramma's desk; I lost track of the number of bags I've gotten rid of... Had to call M while she and D were in town for boxes to bring home more trash bags, too. We've gone through at least 150 trash bags.
Now it's Monday morning, and I've just called the cremation place, asking when I can pick up the ashes. The very nice lady calmly said, oh we haven't done anything yet, because you need to fill out the paperwork... Internally I flipped out. Externally, I said, calmly, well, no one told us that, and so how long will it take? Well, you need to fill out the papers, and then we can try, but I don't know if the ashes will be ready by Wednesday... I reminded her we had filled out the preregistration forms 3 weeks ago, and so now she is looking for them. She said she'd tried to reach me Friday but clearly didn't have the right number. So she will look for the paperwork and call me back. GOOD GOD IN HEAVEN.
Okay, breathe...
Today we are packing boxes and photos and paintings... photos of each painting, numbering them on our itemized list. Today there are two medical supply trucks coming to pick up rented equipment, Angela arrives with her trailer, Alan arrives with his trailer, I need to run over to the PO on the reservation to put in a forwarding address (mine), and also return the giganto crockpot of chili to Janet; (also last night two other neighbors brought us two huge tinfoil containers holding 4 baked chickens on beds of stuffing). We have enough food to feed an army, as they say. What we will do with it I do not know.
M and I are trying not to lose it. There was drama with S of course regarding Lyn, and where the dog/goats/cats/peahen/goose are all going. Tears all around, making up, more wine, food, resting after working ourselves to the point of utter frustration. Then we all calm down and start all over.
One nice thing: my dear old German teacher Warren DeFrank called me Saturday morning. He lives in Florida, and we've been in touch via email for years, but haven't spoken. Yet he called to express condolences and catch up. It was so sweet, so thoughtful.
There are many nice things happening, of course. I don't know why I am focusing on the negatives. Maybe because I am so tired. But things are falling into place, Raney taking the animals is a godsend. Whenever we have an issue, um... a problem, solutions magically appear as if Someone is handling things. Imagine that. Which is just amazing. I'm constantly thanking God. Despite my own drama (in my head) I am full of thanks, and gratitude at my family being here. And the idea that this is a bonding time. Such sadness and grief, and yet we have leaned on each other and renewed our family closeness. I will always be deeply grateful for the strengthening of our ties, and for my sister especially, taking so much time to be here with me.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Friday, After
Before mom, and After.
We are now in the After.
Mom died last night, around 7. When Angela arrived that afternoon, M and I went to the nearest town which has a pharmacy to get the new supply of pain patches and liquid morphine, then on into Spokane for a few groceries, and more garbage bags. (So far we have toted out over a ton of trash...)
We got back here around 5:30, and reconnected with Angela, reviewed what was to be done and what she'd done, how mom'd been. A left around 6. Shortly after, mom began trying to sit up yet again, gasping and struggling to breathe. A'd found a soft new-age-y radio station to help ease her mind, and given her some lorazepam earlier to help her calm down but it wasn't helping enough; mom was flailing and trying to fight us, so we gave her more, along with some more morphine. It really wasn't helping, but there was nothing else we could do.
We debated about more lorazepam or morphine. Thankfully we keep records of what's been given so I just now looked it up to refresh my memory; we did in fact give her more. Shortly after that mom allowed us to lay her down, on her side, and seemed peaceful enough that we left the room to have some soup. Within 10 minutes maybe, M went in to check on her, and came out, wide-eyed, "E-- I think she's gone." We both went back in, and verified. She was cool, not breathing at all, not choking; there was no pulse.
I called Hospice, and they called the Cremation place, and she was taken away by around 9:30. Meantime, we fed the animals (fortunately PeterPaws the escapee did come back the next day, just fine), and called Lyn, and Alan, and our husbands and my daughter (not in that order). We wandered around, occasionally looking blankly at the tv, or going back to stand there, looking her room. We comforted each other, and the animals. We cried, and remembered, hugged and laughed, and lifted our glasses.
We went to bed after having had plenty of wine and comfort food (chocolate!), and recognizing that we were Just Drained. We'd both been up and awake since around 4am that day; I think we both had known this was going to be the day. But knowing or feeling something, and then having it actually happen--quite different.
Another blessing: the Dumpster has been cancelled. The idiot driver couldn't make it up the driveway and was going to drive away without even trying to notify us! J had heard an engine, so he went racing after that noise, spoke to the driver, and then called that office to arrange for ...something. Turns out that wasn't going to be possible until *next* Wednesday, and both M and I lost it at that point. We had so many piles of trash everywhere that it was feeling like Tobacco Road on steroids. It was absolutely overwhelming and we just needed all that to be gone. We'd been counting desperately on the day the Dumpster would be delivered. This was a huge blow, setting us back yet another week.
And then, Alan and Angela, separately, offered the use of their own trailers to haul trash. Between the two of them, we have it covered, and so we just flat out cancelled the Dumpster. We are paying them the gas, and the Dump fees, and each of them is happy to help. Bless them
Let the day begin now--it's 9am.
We are now in the After.
Mom died last night, around 7. When Angela arrived that afternoon, M and I went to the nearest town which has a pharmacy to get the new supply of pain patches and liquid morphine, then on into Spokane for a few groceries, and more garbage bags. (So far we have toted out over a ton of trash...)
We got back here around 5:30, and reconnected with Angela, reviewed what was to be done and what she'd done, how mom'd been. A left around 6. Shortly after, mom began trying to sit up yet again, gasping and struggling to breathe. A'd found a soft new-age-y radio station to help ease her mind, and given her some lorazepam earlier to help her calm down but it wasn't helping enough; mom was flailing and trying to fight us, so we gave her more, along with some more morphine. It really wasn't helping, but there was nothing else we could do.
We debated about more lorazepam or morphine. Thankfully we keep records of what's been given so I just now looked it up to refresh my memory; we did in fact give her more. Shortly after that mom allowed us to lay her down, on her side, and seemed peaceful enough that we left the room to have some soup. Within 10 minutes maybe, M went in to check on her, and came out, wide-eyed, "E-- I think she's gone." We both went back in, and verified. She was cool, not breathing at all, not choking; there was no pulse.
I called Hospice, and they called the Cremation place, and she was taken away by around 9:30. Meantime, we fed the animals (fortunately PeterPaws the escapee did come back the next day, just fine), and called Lyn, and Alan, and our husbands and my daughter (not in that order). We wandered around, occasionally looking blankly at the tv, or going back to stand there, looking her room. We comforted each other, and the animals. We cried, and remembered, hugged and laughed, and lifted our glasses.
We went to bed after having had plenty of wine and comfort food (chocolate!), and recognizing that we were Just Drained. We'd both been up and awake since around 4am that day; I think we both had known this was going to be the day. But knowing or feeling something, and then having it actually happen--quite different.
Another blessing: the Dumpster has been cancelled. The idiot driver couldn't make it up the driveway and was going to drive away without even trying to notify us! J had heard an engine, so he went racing after that noise, spoke to the driver, and then called that office to arrange for ...something. Turns out that wasn't going to be possible until *next* Wednesday, and both M and I lost it at that point. We had so many piles of trash everywhere that it was feeling like Tobacco Road on steroids. It was absolutely overwhelming and we just needed all that to be gone. We'd been counting desperately on the day the Dumpster would be delivered. This was a huge blow, setting us back yet another week.
And then, Alan and Angela, separately, offered the use of their own trailers to haul trash. Between the two of them, we have it covered, and so we just flat out cancelled the Dumpster. We are paying them the gas, and the Dump fees, and each of them is happy to help. Bless them
Let the day begin now--it's 9am.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Wednesday
Yesterday my sons turned 26. I cannot call them because my cell phone does not work here, and their phone numbers are in my cell phone. (It never occurred to me to have their numbers written down just in case--funny, I do have them on paper at home, but this is a completely other world. Sigh.) I left messages for them on my fb page, and on their fb pages. All I can do.
I did ask my daughter to call them and explain, and let them know I was wishing a wonderful birthday for each. She had called suggesting an option of skipping her June graduation, and attending one which is apparently held in August. We talked about that for awhile, and I think the main reason was that she's concerned I would be missing a crucial moment here at mom's (since I'd be gone for 3 days).
I had to tell her that I don't think mom will make it beyond this weekend. So the timing just might work out as it is currently scheduled... S is now processing that she won't have any resolution to her ongoing issue with her grandmother. It is so tough for her. My mom was so rude to S, and S all along has been thinking they'd talk about it again, and get beyond the rudeness. Not going to happen.
Mom is in bed now all the time, sleeping. Sometimes she wakes enough to whisper with closed eyes that she is hurting, and she will accept the liquid pain meds and the liquid anti-anxiety med. She cannot swallow pills anymore. She sits up briefly to use the commode in her room--cannot make it to the end of the house anymore to the bathroom.
The last time she did that was very early yesterday morning. My sister was awakened, hearing her saying repeatedly "ow", and then mom was insisting the needed the bathroom "now", and so M walked her down there and back to her bedroom. Then mom said she needed it again, so M walked her down again, very wobbly and very slowly, and when she was Done, she just couldn't walk anymore. J had to carry her back to the bedroom.
Where she has been since. The Hospice nurse Marion came by yesterday at 9am, and reviewed again what we were looking at, and guessed at 2-5 days. Mom's feet and hands are reddish-purple, and her breathing is slow, labored. Gasping at times. Eyes closed most of the time. Twitching hands, or restlessly moving her legs. Seems warm enough, but she's not really able to speak in understandable phrases. Hallucinating.
Last night she was talking to J and M about her Nile trip, and how she couldn't seem to get "over there". I missed this whole thing because I was in the other room preparing the liquid meds, but apparently she was deeply agitated at the idea of not being able to "get through it", and why couldn't she, M, help her. J tried to comfort her by saying that it would move when it was time, when she was ready. M finally suggested in brilliant desperation, "Can you go around it?" And there was silence, no more talking. Mom seemed to be puzzling over that. She fell back into her other world, and didn't respond.
Talk about symbolic! Wow. I'm sorry I wasn't there for that exchange.
Each time the opportunity comes up, we each try to reassure her that we will be okay, that we love her, that we are taking care of her, and taking care of the house and animals. (Who never leave her side, really. The dog is either on her bed, or on the floor by her bed.The cats are on her bed too, or sitting in the window, looking out.)
One rasping cry I've heard several times daily, for several months now whenever I visit here to "Close the door!!" Because one of the cats apparently tries to escape, and mom is utterly panic-stricken over the possibility that he'll be eaten if he is outside for any length of time. Finally one time I said, "Mom! you don't have to say this every time--I know the cat is here." Sure enough, late yesterday the cat scooted right out the door through M's legs as she was letting the dog in. She went out after him, and he just kept skittering further away. So, he is out. Hasn't come back yet. We were all awakened during the night by what sounded like a cat fight...but he hasn't shown up.
Angela is a god-send. She is here daily now, helping with whatever we need: she does the vacuuming, the laundry, dishes; she helps mom use the commode, she straightens out the bed, helps the bath-aide while M, J and I take our daily one hour walk with the dogs. She is sorting books and cleaning out the pantry, talking and listening and laughing and sharing moments she's had with mom, listening to moments we've had. Mom wanted Angela to have her old Toyota so we did that yesterday, transferred the title to her, and her husband drove it away.
I can't find the title to the Suburban, so today when M and I go into town we get to go to the DMV and apply for a lost title, which they say will take 8-10 weeks. Weeks. How the hell can we sell it without the title??
The Dumpster arrives today. We have a humungous pile outside where the trash and throw-aways have been piling, and J will toss all that in. We're all anxious to see how big it is, and how much it'll hold. Apparently they only pick up once a week--that almost can't be right, but we'll find out more today. If true, then we will need to stay longer, or have a second one delivered... ugh. Or maybe Alan would like to haul trash? We'll ask him. (Also need to ask him about the goats, and how they will get to the place they are going. Arrange for that to happen.)
God. There is just so much to do. But we've already done So Much! Removing the junk, the trash, the stockpiles of things she's had for many years and never used, that alone is making the place feel a bit airier, a bit less oppressive.
M brought sage, and she burns that daily; it helps tremendously as the cigarette smoke smell gradually lessens. Mom thankfully hasn't been able to hold or smoke a cigarette since Sunday morning, so the nurse pointed out that a lot of the agitation could be from withdrawal. Hmm. It hadn't occurred to any of us, but that does make a lot of sense.
M and I tackle an area, a cupboard, a drawer, separately; we then review and recount what we've found, or mostly we just trust each other to know what to toss and what to keep. Most of these areas are a mish-mash of Things; because she has no dedicated storage space really, she's stashed stuff vaguely in the general direction of where similar things were "stored", which requires us to pay close attention: we are continually finding surprises. We've decided a book on her life here would be titled "Random Crap and Treasures".
J discovered that the composting toilet was having an issue, and so he and Angela emptied the whole thing by hand, and disposed of it all. What a stench that was! OMG> thankfully it is under warranty still, so J will order a new fan, and hopefully when that's replaced it'll make the thing work correctly. There was much discussion on the phone with the company that made it....that will only be $20 for the shipping.
Phone calls last night and on Monday night from old friends, devastated to hear she won't be, can't be talking on the phone to them. So sad to give them the news, and then listen, share their grief. People are in tears. The lady last night begged to be allowed to come up and see her, even if she can't respond, even if she is bed-ridden, so I agreed. She'll be here later today. God, this is all so...sad.
In one way I'm very grateful she doesn't have a *lot* of local friends. It'd be rough fending off visitors. In another way, I think she's said her goodbyes over the past several months. Janet was here Saturday night, and that was the last time mom was up and out of bed, sitting at the table here, smoking.
Breakfast! J has made French toast...
I did ask my daughter to call them and explain, and let them know I was wishing a wonderful birthday for each. She had called suggesting an option of skipping her June graduation, and attending one which is apparently held in August. We talked about that for awhile, and I think the main reason was that she's concerned I would be missing a crucial moment here at mom's (since I'd be gone for 3 days).
I had to tell her that I don't think mom will make it beyond this weekend. So the timing just might work out as it is currently scheduled... S is now processing that she won't have any resolution to her ongoing issue with her grandmother. It is so tough for her. My mom was so rude to S, and S all along has been thinking they'd talk about it again, and get beyond the rudeness. Not going to happen.
Mom is in bed now all the time, sleeping. Sometimes she wakes enough to whisper with closed eyes that she is hurting, and she will accept the liquid pain meds and the liquid anti-anxiety med. She cannot swallow pills anymore. She sits up briefly to use the commode in her room--cannot make it to the end of the house anymore to the bathroom.
The last time she did that was very early yesterday morning. My sister was awakened, hearing her saying repeatedly "ow", and then mom was insisting the needed the bathroom "now", and so M walked her down there and back to her bedroom. Then mom said she needed it again, so M walked her down again, very wobbly and very slowly, and when she was Done, she just couldn't walk anymore. J had to carry her back to the bedroom.
Where she has been since. The Hospice nurse Marion came by yesterday at 9am, and reviewed again what we were looking at, and guessed at 2-5 days. Mom's feet and hands are reddish-purple, and her breathing is slow, labored. Gasping at times. Eyes closed most of the time. Twitching hands, or restlessly moving her legs. Seems warm enough, but she's not really able to speak in understandable phrases. Hallucinating.
Last night she was talking to J and M about her Nile trip, and how she couldn't seem to get "over there". I missed this whole thing because I was in the other room preparing the liquid meds, but apparently she was deeply agitated at the idea of not being able to "get through it", and why couldn't she, M, help her. J tried to comfort her by saying that it would move when it was time, when she was ready. M finally suggested in brilliant desperation, "Can you go around it?" And there was silence, no more talking. Mom seemed to be puzzling over that. She fell back into her other world, and didn't respond.
Talk about symbolic! Wow. I'm sorry I wasn't there for that exchange.
Each time the opportunity comes up, we each try to reassure her that we will be okay, that we love her, that we are taking care of her, and taking care of the house and animals. (Who never leave her side, really. The dog is either on her bed, or on the floor by her bed.The cats are on her bed too, or sitting in the window, looking out.)
One rasping cry I've heard several times daily, for several months now whenever I visit here to "Close the door!!" Because one of the cats apparently tries to escape, and mom is utterly panic-stricken over the possibility that he'll be eaten if he is outside for any length of time. Finally one time I said, "Mom! you don't have to say this every time--I know the cat is here." Sure enough, late yesterday the cat scooted right out the door through M's legs as she was letting the dog in. She went out after him, and he just kept skittering further away. So, he is out. Hasn't come back yet. We were all awakened during the night by what sounded like a cat fight...but he hasn't shown up.
Angela is a god-send. She is here daily now, helping with whatever we need: she does the vacuuming, the laundry, dishes; she helps mom use the commode, she straightens out the bed, helps the bath-aide while M, J and I take our daily one hour walk with the dogs. She is sorting books and cleaning out the pantry, talking and listening and laughing and sharing moments she's had with mom, listening to moments we've had. Mom wanted Angela to have her old Toyota so we did that yesterday, transferred the title to her, and her husband drove it away.
I can't find the title to the Suburban, so today when M and I go into town we get to go to the DMV and apply for a lost title, which they say will take 8-10 weeks. Weeks. How the hell can we sell it without the title??
The Dumpster arrives today. We have a humungous pile outside where the trash and throw-aways have been piling, and J will toss all that in. We're all anxious to see how big it is, and how much it'll hold. Apparently they only pick up once a week--that almost can't be right, but we'll find out more today. If true, then we will need to stay longer, or have a second one delivered... ugh. Or maybe Alan would like to haul trash? We'll ask him. (Also need to ask him about the goats, and how they will get to the place they are going. Arrange for that to happen.)
God. There is just so much to do. But we've already done So Much! Removing the junk, the trash, the stockpiles of things she's had for many years and never used, that alone is making the place feel a bit airier, a bit less oppressive.
M brought sage, and she burns that daily; it helps tremendously as the cigarette smoke smell gradually lessens. Mom thankfully hasn't been able to hold or smoke a cigarette since Sunday morning, so the nurse pointed out that a lot of the agitation could be from withdrawal. Hmm. It hadn't occurred to any of us, but that does make a lot of sense.
M and I tackle an area, a cupboard, a drawer, separately; we then review and recount what we've found, or mostly we just trust each other to know what to toss and what to keep. Most of these areas are a mish-mash of Things; because she has no dedicated storage space really, she's stashed stuff vaguely in the general direction of where similar things were "stored", which requires us to pay close attention: we are continually finding surprises. We've decided a book on her life here would be titled "Random Crap and Treasures".
J discovered that the composting toilet was having an issue, and so he and Angela emptied the whole thing by hand, and disposed of it all. What a stench that was! OMG> thankfully it is under warranty still, so J will order a new fan, and hopefully when that's replaced it'll make the thing work correctly. There was much discussion on the phone with the company that made it....that will only be $20 for the shipping.
Phone calls last night and on Monday night from old friends, devastated to hear she won't be, can't be talking on the phone to them. So sad to give them the news, and then listen, share their grief. People are in tears. The lady last night begged to be allowed to come up and see her, even if she can't respond, even if she is bed-ridden, so I agreed. She'll be here later today. God, this is all so...sad.
In one way I'm very grateful she doesn't have a *lot* of local friends. It'd be rough fending off visitors. In another way, I think she's said her goodbyes over the past several months. Janet was here Saturday night, and that was the last time mom was up and out of bed, sitting at the table here, smoking.
Breakfast! J has made French toast...
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Saturday
It was a tough day yesterday. So much happens every single day, and there are various people in and out, a nurse Ellen, Angela, Alan and Debbie, social workers, another nurse Pam, Teresa, Tracy. All these people visit or check in daily, and it feels overwhelming to try to remember who said what, and whether my sister (M) was there too to process it with me. So we have lots of conversations just recounting to each other the conversations with others, and impressions we've picked up.
Maybe not surprisingly we are on the same page with our impressions, our feelings about what's happening, plans we're making, and I'm so grateful. We catch ourselves saying something, and sometimes can't remember if we've already talked about it! But the good thing is we are endlessly patient and supportive of each other no matter what. I absolutely could not be doing this without her.
J left very early Friday morning to head down to our house, having received an email saying he had to "report to the set", a casting call. By the time he got home and had done a few errands and caught up on mail etc, another email came to him with a correction--"oops, the casting call date was wrong, it's actually June 9. Not June 2." Sigh. So, he is driving back up today...bringing up a few things we'd like to have. Poor guy.
Meanwhile my sister and I were alone with mom until she did wake, around the time Angela showed up. Angela's scheduled number of hours (as determined by the State) have now been increased because of mom's drastically changing condition since her last assessment. So Angela will be here every day now, and even on weekends, thank the gods. Neither my sister or want to do things like bathing her or feeding her (although we've certainly done the feeding if Angela isn't here), so that's why A is needed. Also A has the kind of patience one has if the patient isn't a relative...she has a lot more sympathy and empathy, and that is just fine. It's actually a deep blessing.
At one point yesterday M was again working on the vast quantities of books, and I was gathering up my courage to tackle mom's Computer Desk Area. I've always looked with it with if not fear then horror: a maelstrom of papers, pencils, pens, bobby pins, candies, photos, mail, letters, medicine bottles, computer parts (new and replacement), knick-knacks and treasures, folders, printers, scanners, monitors, towers, wires and cords by the mile, scraps of papers, writings by the pound both typed and handwritten, medical reports on paper and DC, music CDs, floppy discs by the stack-- oh, it was going to be a big job. And finally I just jumped in and started from the top shelf down. There was so much dust it was hard to breathe. Clearly she hasn't been able to do anything in this area for years. My throat is still sore today from the amount of dust I was breathing in.
Anyway, as I was doing this occasionally I'd come across something or M would come across family papers and we'd alternate oohing and aahing and hearing a bit of history if mom was able to remember. Much of the time she was very foggy and very obviously struggling to remember. Sad.
At one point I found what was to me a treasure beyond words: a collection of pieces of cloth sewed together in various patterns, with silk embroidery, obviously handmade, dated 1824, with what looked like pockets. I had no idea what it could be. I love the old stitched pieces, the old sampler type things, and brought this to her, exclaiming over it and asking if she remembered anything. She said, completely surprised, "I didn't know you loved this kind of thing..I wish I had...I had at one point....oh, Mother, why did you die!" She asked for help to sit up, held this ancient cloth in her bony hands, gently stroking it, overcome, unable to speak. It clearly meant something; I think she said a few words related to my grandmother's grandmother, and then she simply stopped talking. Couldn't speak. Shut her eyes, sat there, and I kind of moved away back to her desk, but just a few feet away, thinking she needed some space. A minute later she called for Angela, and was sobbing, and they shut mom's door for a good half hour, A and mom in there; M and I could hear A's soft murmuring voice, and mom's crying as A tried to soothe her.
Earlier mom had confronted M once again about some old ongoing issue she is still holding a grudge over, once again demanding answers and explanations. M did the best she could to answer, knowing mom wasn't going to be satisfied with anything she said. When that was over, M was just exhausted.
And after mom was finally asleep again, A told M that mom had been crying yet again over that old grudge with M, sobbing as if it had just happened. Hearing this just shattered M. We have been alternating having meltdowns, first me, then her, and we just hold each other and let the other one cry, comforting. We know this is old stuff...yet mom is acting as if it just happened. And there is no explanation for her twisted soul to accept.
It's so sad, and heart-wrenching for each of us. A is very understanding of the family dynamics, and sees clearly what is happening, and does not judge; she is there to help each of us with whatever issues she can, both emotional and physical. Thank god for her.
Later still another one of mom's friends Janet came up for a couple of hours, and at that point mom was (continues to be) utterly exhausted, yet rallied enough to listen to Janet, and respond, and be "a hostess". Yet in the same space of time she snaps at each of us, telling us to "Shut Up!! just shut up so I can think!!" Completely rude and oblivious to how it sounds or how we feel. Part of me hears this and accepts that this is just part of the final days' processing; I can't imagine how she is holding on one more minute. Other times I want to crawl under the rug with embarrassment for her. Still others I want to slap her out of it. Or leave the room and cry, or leave the room to br-e-a-t-h-e....
This is why M is here, so we can alternate dealing with her. It's too much for one person.
Later today A will arrive, and M and I will get to go to town!!! I'm laughing as I write this, thinking how strange it is to be so excited to have a couple hours away. J will be here when we get back.
Maybe not surprisingly we are on the same page with our impressions, our feelings about what's happening, plans we're making, and I'm so grateful. We catch ourselves saying something, and sometimes can't remember if we've already talked about it! But the good thing is we are endlessly patient and supportive of each other no matter what. I absolutely could not be doing this without her.
J left very early Friday morning to head down to our house, having received an email saying he had to "report to the set", a casting call. By the time he got home and had done a few errands and caught up on mail etc, another email came to him with a correction--"oops, the casting call date was wrong, it's actually June 9. Not June 2." Sigh. So, he is driving back up today...bringing up a few things we'd like to have. Poor guy.
Meanwhile my sister and I were alone with mom until she did wake, around the time Angela showed up. Angela's scheduled number of hours (as determined by the State) have now been increased because of mom's drastically changing condition since her last assessment. So Angela will be here every day now, and even on weekends, thank the gods. Neither my sister or want to do things like bathing her or feeding her (although we've certainly done the feeding if Angela isn't here), so that's why A is needed. Also A has the kind of patience one has if the patient isn't a relative...she has a lot more sympathy and empathy, and that is just fine. It's actually a deep blessing.
At one point yesterday M was again working on the vast quantities of books, and I was gathering up my courage to tackle mom's Computer Desk Area. I've always looked with it with if not fear then horror: a maelstrom of papers, pencils, pens, bobby pins, candies, photos, mail, letters, medicine bottles, computer parts (new and replacement), knick-knacks and treasures, folders, printers, scanners, monitors, towers, wires and cords by the mile, scraps of papers, writings by the pound both typed and handwritten, medical reports on paper and DC, music CDs, floppy discs by the stack-- oh, it was going to be a big job. And finally I just jumped in and started from the top shelf down. There was so much dust it was hard to breathe. Clearly she hasn't been able to do anything in this area for years. My throat is still sore today from the amount of dust I was breathing in.
Anyway, as I was doing this occasionally I'd come across something or M would come across family papers and we'd alternate oohing and aahing and hearing a bit of history if mom was able to remember. Much of the time she was very foggy and very obviously struggling to remember. Sad.
At one point I found what was to me a treasure beyond words: a collection of pieces of cloth sewed together in various patterns, with silk embroidery, obviously handmade, dated 1824, with what looked like pockets. I had no idea what it could be. I love the old stitched pieces, the old sampler type things, and brought this to her, exclaiming over it and asking if she remembered anything. She said, completely surprised, "I didn't know you loved this kind of thing..I wish I had...I had at one point....oh, Mother, why did you die!" She asked for help to sit up, held this ancient cloth in her bony hands, gently stroking it, overcome, unable to speak. It clearly meant something; I think she said a few words related to my grandmother's grandmother, and then she simply stopped talking. Couldn't speak. Shut her eyes, sat there, and I kind of moved away back to her desk, but just a few feet away, thinking she needed some space. A minute later she called for Angela, and was sobbing, and they shut mom's door for a good half hour, A and mom in there; M and I could hear A's soft murmuring voice, and mom's crying as A tried to soothe her.
Earlier mom had confronted M once again about some old ongoing issue she is still holding a grudge over, once again demanding answers and explanations. M did the best she could to answer, knowing mom wasn't going to be satisfied with anything she said. When that was over, M was just exhausted.
And after mom was finally asleep again, A told M that mom had been crying yet again over that old grudge with M, sobbing as if it had just happened. Hearing this just shattered M. We have been alternating having meltdowns, first me, then her, and we just hold each other and let the other one cry, comforting. We know this is old stuff...yet mom is acting as if it just happened. And there is no explanation for her twisted soul to accept.
It's so sad, and heart-wrenching for each of us. A is very understanding of the family dynamics, and sees clearly what is happening, and does not judge; she is there to help each of us with whatever issues she can, both emotional and physical. Thank god for her.
Later still another one of mom's friends Janet came up for a couple of hours, and at that point mom was (continues to be) utterly exhausted, yet rallied enough to listen to Janet, and respond, and be "a hostess". Yet in the same space of time she snaps at each of us, telling us to "Shut Up!! just shut up so I can think!!" Completely rude and oblivious to how it sounds or how we feel. Part of me hears this and accepts that this is just part of the final days' processing; I can't imagine how she is holding on one more minute. Other times I want to crawl under the rug with embarrassment for her. Still others I want to slap her out of it. Or leave the room and cry, or leave the room to br-e-a-t-h-e....
This is why M is here, so we can alternate dealing with her. It's too much for one person.
Later today A will arrive, and M and I will get to go to town!!! I'm laughing as I write this, thinking how strange it is to be so excited to have a couple hours away. J will be here when we get back.
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