Tuesday

The carport is now empty of all we came down here with 7 weeks ago. All the furniture is gone, sold...all boxes unpacked. (The only things still wrapped are all the artwork, which is stored in the protected converted bread truck J used for a growing "room".)

Seeing Collin arrive Sunday afternoon and loading everything into his truck was much more difficult and emotional than I was prepared for. We helped him pack all the glassware, china, and small breakables,  and then J helped him load the furniture. I have a feeling I'm going to regret letting the little child's chair go, but...I have no room for it.  The house is stuffed to the gills as it is.

It took about an hour and a half, and I had to keep a firm grip on my emotions. But as he was leaving, I was overcome with another round of sadness and grief. The items I grew up with, like my home, are gone. Guess I'm an adult now. No way to revisit.

But! I have the most important things surrounding me: we are using the Audubon plates for meals. I have a few of the green crystal glasses. I have some of Gramma's china. I have countless small preciouses  in various locations-- bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, living room, and office. Everywhere I look I see small bits of Gramma mainly, and a few things that mom loved. Very comforting.  And I have photos, and many memories.

Yesterday we picked up the paint for doing the interior of mom's house, for cosmetic purposes; J and the realtor feel it will sell quicker if it looks nicer, at least on the surface. But fortunately, or unfortunately, the rooftop stuff (to re-waterproof the metal roof) was hideously expensive, and we voted to not do that after all.  Phew!! I was not looking forward to that extra job.  We   I want to get up there and do the work and leave as soon as possible.

There will be no Internet there, no cell phone, no TV, no DVD, no music. No books other than what we bring to read. I don't know about any food, or whether Debbie and Alan have packed the contents of the kitchen--nothing. Sigh. We will just be winging it.

This morning I had a phone interview, my first time. Five women in various positions in the OSU Health Clinic asking me questions, and then asking follow-up questions. Very stressful. Being on speaker phone makes the sound a bit off anyway, and so I have no idea how I sounded. I'm frustrated because it's only part-time after all. Rats.  Well, I'm not going to count on it.

My right lower back got twisted somehow Saturday night, or Sunday--I woke with the most awful stabbing pain/ ache. No matter what position I was in, it hurt. I spent most of the day yesterday dealing with it. First walking for 3 miles to try to stretch it, then applying heat, or painkillers, or more stretching exercises.   I lay down, I did floor exercises, I climbed stairs, I moved slowly. Arggh.  I felt like a cripple, getting in and out of the car doing our errands.

This morning it's slightly better, but along with the back pain is the damn headache. This one has been with me for 4 days now.

I also spent the rest of the day collecting all pieces of paper related to mom's bills, and what we'd paid, how we'd paid (cc or cash), who we'd paid, and when. That took much longer than I expected. Now I finally have it all collected and transcribed, and just have to organize it. My goal is to figure out where to throw money, as in, the expenses we've had related to mom's Estate. M and my brother agreeing to handle mom's monthly expenses til I can figure this out and get caught up is going to be a huge help.

The new little Lavender Orpingtons are adjusting well. They stayed in the enclosure, separated from the older ladies for a week, and then J opened the separate enclosure to the lawn so they could have direct access, bypassing the older ladies. It's been fascinating to watch them explore, and seeing how close they stay to the pen. They are not adventurous at all. Oddly now that they are out and about, the Buff Orp is ignoring them. We kind of thought she might take over the little ones, and become the BossHen of those, creating a separate flock, but no. Ethel remains the BossHen of all of them. No eggs from the little ones yet.

J gets so upset when he sees Ethel being a boss--she can be really nasty, attacking the other ones. He rushes out there if he sees this, thinking he can intervene. We have had several discussions over what "establishing a pecking order" means!  I'm just fine with what is happening--it seems natural to me, if a bit nasty. I want to just stay out of it--let them do their thing. But he has a hard time seeing any bullying, by man or beast.

Tomorrow we leave here around 1 or 2, drive to P'land for my appt with the endodontist, and then head straight for mom's. I won't be able to update here til Saturday or Sunday. Rats.  Guess I'll bring the laptop anyway, so I can write on Word at least...

Sunday

I think this is the longest I have not written.  SO much has happened. It has been a whirlwind of emotion and activity and ups and downs.

The auction house person, Terry, came and looked over our items on Tuesday afternoon, and  explained how it all works. But short story, we are not going to go with this option: he offered almost the same price Collin did, plus we'd have to pay him a 30% commission. So, no...  we talked it over with my sister who was here at the time too, and agreed to just sell it all to Collin, the antiques dealer here. He's coming later today to pick it all up.

In the meantime we each have snuck little pieces out of that collection because we couldn't bear to see it go. So we probably won't get the "just over $1000" he originally suggested. It's okay... For some of the things I snatched  chose to keep, I'd rather have them now (for a while longer if I'm not sure about letting them go just yet), than let them go now and regret it later, while wishing I'd held onto them.

  For instance: those pearl-handled knives/forks.  So pretty!! And a set of 6 small heavy, carved-with-tiny-cherubs  grapefruit spoons.  And 3 green-tinged wine glasses, crystal. And a set of dessert plates, which we always called the Audubon plates, because Audubon birds are painted in the center of the delicate white china. And a set of two etched-glass vases (??) each set in silver holders. Kept those...My daughter even took a pie-crust table!  That's it, though. Everything else is going. (That ancient old Singer sewing machine? "You *might* get $20 for it, to use as an anchor...." Sad.)

But my sister's visit went wonderfully. We picked her up Monday afternoon up in P'land, (after a 90min delay in leaving SLC on her end, due to what they termed "missing pilots"-- hmm). When we finally arrived at the airport, because of J's handicap sticker we can park just outside the baggage claim revolving door, so I leapt out and ran into the terminal, having received a text from her that she was there. Meanwhile, J, sitting in the car, saw me pushing into the door, and then saw my sister pushing out that same door at the same time.  Funny!  I was standing inside looking around for her, and then heard my name called behind me; she had seen me go inside, and followed me right back in!  We laughed like crazy, and hugged, and then chattered all the way home, stopping for a veggie pizza on the way to take-and-bake.  By the time we got home, it was almost 8, and we were wiped out, but still stayed up til 10 or so talking.

Tuesday morning we began right away early with unloading all my grandmother's boxes, opening each item, photographing it, and laying it out on the walkway up to the deck, on an old, musty Persian rug we've been trying to air out. We had a lot of memories, and yet in some cases absolutely no memory of the item. That was so emotional.

At one point we opened a largish tarnished silver container and found an unlabeled Ziploc baggie half-filled with ashes.  Ummm.   We kind of froze. Who is this?? Or what is it...could it truly be...cremains?? Or maybe it's just...no--it has to be cremains.  We set it aside. Neither one of us could guess. Possibly Gramma's two enormous orange cats??

It took most of the day to unload, arrange, inventory. In the midst of this, an old friend Rob came up from Eugene for a little reunion. He had moved out to Eugene with my mom and sister and brother in the mid-70s, and stayed there, helping to raise my sister despite just being a few years older himself. (My mother and he even had a relationship for a number of years. That was weird.)  He has always been a sweetie friend, has helped me move a few times. Kind of jumped in to be a male mentor to my daughter, and is a part of the family. During our reunion I had the distinct impression he was lonely, despite having a very full life, and a strong relationship for almost 30 years with his partner Julie.   He was so delighted to see us both, and listen, especially to M describing mom's last days.

Then the auction person arrived at 4, so Rob left, and M and I went right back to unpacking and sorting.  J meanwhile dealt with Terry, and later I talked with him too. We promised to be in touch. We had a great dinner made by J,  and planned out what to do the next two days.

So Wednesday morning we had an early start by a good long walk with the dog, and then coming back to start on papers. These were things I needed another set of eyes to look at and help me figure out: 1) importance  2) to whom  3) whether to keep 4) whether to send to someone else.  Ie, keep for posterity (Family Papers), or toss, or send to another person. This was also emotional-- it took 3 hours just to go through two of the five boxes.

After a quick lunch, where Z joined us,  we two went back to Gramma's items. This time we divided into "roughly equal" halves, one half for us 3 siblings, and the other half for my 3 cousins. This was so hard--trying to respect my Gramma's wishes for each of the cousins to feel they had an equal part of her belongings , while noting some of the silver was engraved with some family initials, and others are not. Very time-consuming. Set aside all of the Cousins' items to be re-packed for shipping back east. Took photos of each item with a brief description, and noted where it was going, to cousins, or to M's.

  Then we went back once more to the Half for us.  Taking into account that each of us already had a few of Gramma's items (taken directly from mom's house in June), now we had to account for all items present and divide/choose which we wanted most.  This was a bit more heart-wrenching. Both M and I dearly loved a few of the same things, but what we came up with was to agree to alternate "ownership". If I take custody of something now, then in a few years it'll be M's turn.

 Plus M had a better idea of my brother and his wife's tastes. So challenging trying to be fair, and equal, and not grab the special items I deserved wanted. But I'm sure M felt the same way... I sure hope my cousins also feel this was fair. Over all I think we did a great job with some very difficult choices. And what's nice is that we (all) are on excellent loving terms, and if at some point we want to change our mind or renegotiate, we are both willing and open to do so. Such  a relief.

Later that day I had an idea: instead of us re-packing and shipping, could we maybe hire professional packers and shippers, to be utterly safely sure that it would all arrive in perfect condition? Fortunately M and J completely agreed, and it solved a number of issues, mainly time. It would have taken hours to re-pack and find strong enough boxes...and we just didn't have that time. (So UPS came the next morning, Thursday, and took away 5 boxes for the cousins, and one box and one rifle for M and my brother. The five boxes were consolidated into 3 by their expert re-packing skills, and the cost is going to be roughly $600,including heavy insurance. Gulp. But it's worth it. That will come out of mom's Estate costs.)

About that time we were realizing we weren't going to have enough time as it was to do everything, so M has unbelievably graciously offered to come back in the Spring, and at that time we'll tackle the paintings and artwork of both mom's and Gramma's.

So in the afternoon on Wednesday we started looking at the photos. Boxes and boxes. And then more boxes. My daughter arrived around 6 for dinner and it was a blast; M made dinner that night, stuffed zucchini and crab-cakes and veggies, and lots of wine. It was a wonderful evening. And after dinner we worked more on the photos. Lots of laughter.

Thursday morning another long faster walk this time, and then worked on the last three boxes of papers. Me taking notes on what to do with each item. Heart-wrenching decisions.   Thank goodness she was there, though-- I couldn't make these decisions alone.

The mail came, and I found I'd won two tickets to Antiques Roadshow! I'd totally forgotten I'd even entered the lottery for the Seattle tickets...but here they are. And perfect timing--we now have a good selection of things to choose from to bring: we are allowed to bring two items each, so we will be bringing 4 items total.

In the afternoon, we opted to scatter the unknown cremains, having decided they must be the kitties'. Gramma's remains were buried back in Woodlawn, and so was Uncle Terry, and neither of us knew of anyone else who'd died besides the animals.  So we went down to the creek-side, and scattered handfuls, wishing the spirit a good journey.

Last night, Saturday, my daughter came up for the afternoon and for dinner. I was showing her my "box of treasures", and she immediately focused on the tarnished silver container, asking where the ashes were? I said we'd scattered them...and she said, oh!

Turns out that was an urn.

Turns out IN the urn was Gramma.  I was (and am) in shock. I got teary, and couldn't breathe,  and couldn't even think straight. WHAT!! How can it be Gramma! She is buried in Woodlawn!!  " No, not all the ashes went to the cemetery--my Gramma kept some up in Spokane..."  I didn't know that. M didn't know that. NO ONE knew. (Except my daughter.) Why didn't mom tell any of us?? Oh. Good. Lord.

I immediately called my sister, and she gasped too.  Oh. Good. Lord.

But really, once we'd talked about it, we realized, Okay: if we'd known, maybe M could have taken the ashes to be scattered in the Florida waters she loved.  As it is, she was scattered in the creek, a fast-running stream very similar to New England's streams where she grew up. 

We did say some quiet prayers at the time, some loving thoughts.

 Yesterday after the dreadful shock of hearing that it was Gramma, I had immediately turned to the creek and called out, I'm sorry Gramma!!  And then I thought, wait-- maybe this wasn't ideal, but I'm actually happy to have her here, with us, in a peaceful green place, my home, which I know she would have loved. I wish she could have seen it.


Anyway, Thursday afternoon we drove back up to P'land where M caught  the red-eye flight (with stops in Phoenix, Charlotte, and finally Daytona), and then came home. We reviewed everything we'd done. I was so sad to see her go, and felt grief over missing her.

 J and I have discussed several times over the past months the idea of moving to FL, near to her, and my brother. J's most recent thoughts are that he couldn't possibly do this, because what would he do all day? Here he has friends, he labors to keep the house warm, he gardens, etc. Ah well, we go back and forth.  Right now my thoughts are that if J won't go, of course I won't leave him. But if he dies first, then I would probably go, having no reason to stay here. Much as I love my/our little house, I couldn't bear to live here without him. All my family is back East.

M and her husband have agreed to set up some kind of Excel spreadsheet for finances. PHEW> I'm so relieved. I just have to find the pieces of paper, and send them all. that will be such a huge load off my mind.  And, my brother and sister will handle the monthly expenses still involved with mom, while J and I get caught up financially. What a gift.

We're waiting to hear if/when the Suburban sells; the title finally arrived here so we'll bring that with us to WA next week, so Alan will have it on hand for the buyer.

Tuesday I have a phone interview with the Student Health Services dept at Oregon State. That would be pretty cool--I could do that...  I didn't get the research job I wanted, which was disappointing. But I got a personal email from the woman who interviewed me for that, in addition to the official HR email, so that felt good.

My lord.

It's Sunday now, and just after noon.  J is down in Eugene today having a last lunch with his daughter before she moves to Kennewick. I decided this was a good chance to catch up here on the blog--I knew it'd be a long one.

It's kind of cool and gloomy here today, although it's supposed to be up to 85--sure doesn't feel like it'll get there. In any case I have plenty to do inside--I'm wearing socks and jeans and flannel.

I absolutely love wearing 4 generations of wedding rings. My own, my mom's simple gold band, my grandmother's, and my great-grandmother's. It gives me such a feeling of  connection to my maternal history. I have other pieces of their jewelry, and one ring of my paternal grandmother's that need repair, and someday I will do that. In the meantime, my mind just boggles.

How blessed I am.

Friday

   Friday already. My interview on Tuesday went well--I think. Who really knows. We seemed to have  a good understanding of each other; the position is definitely one I can do, and well. The two interviewers were the department manager and the RN also doing trials. They are looking to hire not only a coordinator, but another RN...in the next two weeks. The dept is growing,  so that's the reason for the positions being available.

  Just have to wait and see. She said they would call me for a second interview if I were a good candidate, and then they'd want me start pretty soon. I said I'd be thrilled. I sent a thank you note the next morning.

  In the meantime we have been also getting the house ready for Visitors (my sister arrives Monday--YAY!!).  Touch-up painting outside, as well as re-painting the upstairs inside, and the bathroom. Moving furniture around, trying different configurations. Putting stuff away (which has sat out and made me feel cluttered for months).

   Also, we opened up the biggest carton containing a mirror which had been wrapped for the 30 years mom had it stowed away, and discovered that it was in great shape. It's five feet long and 30 inches wide. It is huge ! (I don't remember seeing this before; I am having trouble placing it-- did we have it growing up?? Where did it come from??)  We tried it several places, before determining it would be safest hung in the living room. It makes a heck of a difference. WOW. Stunning.

   When the man from the local antiques store came Sunday morning to look at the Stuff, we were digging into boxes we really hadn't thoroughly reviewed before. We stumbled on one box containing 12 absolutely beautiful pearl-handled dinner knives. I had never seen these before. They are gorgeous.  The dealer, named Collin, kind of brushed over those, and then gave us an estimate to buy all we'd looked at for just over a thousand dollars. J and I were polite, and enjoyed his visit--he was witty, and knowledgeable, and a lot of fun to dig around with---but both of us were severely disappointed with the estimate. 

  And then: J did a google search on pearl-handled knives, looked on ebay, and discovered the exact same knives ranging in price from $150 to $350. Hmm. If the knives alone were worth/valued at a third of the entire estimate, that was news to us. Collin sure didn't seem excited over this, while he did seem thrilled at some of the bigger pieces.  A friend pointed out to us that maybe he just didn't know...in any case, we are not going to accept Collin's offer, but we might offer him some of the pieces, just not the whole lot.

   I keep going back and forth over the furniture. Yes, these are beautiful, and beautifully made, and the workmanship is so careful, and I so appreciate the time and skill it took to create these pieces. And my whole life I kept hearing how valuable these were.

   Yet as an adult in my own life, I have no space, I have no use for, and I have no real desire to keep them.  Out of sentiment, definitely yes. But I literally have no room for sentiment. Not only would it cost us money to rent a storage space, but then what--what would I do with them? According to several dealers, the market for these is down significantly from what it was just a few years ago, before the crash. So, maybe the best thing is to keep them? for a better price a few years from now?  I don't know.  It would cost us money to rent space: would we realize enough on the sale (if we wait) to recoup some of the rental space cost?

  The other two dealers who have looked at the stuff also shake their heads  in admiration,  and  then cluck over how young people these days don't want the GoodStuff we have; one just sniffed and said, "Young couples these days want that Ikea stuff. Bah!"  Comments such as, "This is definitely the real thing...too bad no one seems to want it these days... a few years ago we could have gotten a much larger amount for this, but now..." and they kind of trail off.

Part of me wants to just accept whatever we get, and let it go. As in any garage sale, whatever you can get for your items doesn't reflect what the original cost was, only what the market will bear --or frankly, what people will give you cash money for.

But the other part is whispering, "Hey--these were Family Preciouses--you can't just let them go!" Oh, the guilt.

As the weather starts to turn cold and nasty, the decision will have to be made, because they can't sit outside all winter.   It's a gamble.

The other option is an auction. An auction house in Salem will come next week to discuss that possibility with us. That option looks more and more attractive, but I guess we'll know more after his estimate.

Today J is installing the new mailbox--finally after all these years he agreed we could just buy a new one. It's ridiculously cheap-- it was only $15. But it's made of steel, made in the USA, and the latch fully closes, and our mail won't get wet anymore. I'm so excited. I was laughing yesterday--how boring is my life when I get excited over a new mailbox?? But I was laughing in happiness, not sarcasm.

Lots to do in addition to the above...and I have a list!  Gives me a lot of satisfaction to cross items off...

Monday

Yesterday afternoon I was relaxing on the back deck, and suddenly there was a text from my son, the one who was in jail. He texted that he was out, that he'd done four days, that court was this week, Thursday, and that he still had his job! Of all things...I am so grateful he is alright, and that he still has work. His boss "went to bat for him", because he is such a good rep at the call center. I asked if he was moving out, since the girl had posted she'd broken up with him, and he said oh no, that they were back together.  (So hard to keep my mouth shut.) Okay---whatever.   TYG.

Then this morning, I got a phone call from the HR department at the local hospital; they have my app for the research position advertised, and sound interested. I have an interview tomorrow morning.  The HR person kept trying to clarify with me if I have an associate's degree, and I had to explain that I'd never gotten a piece of paper stating that, nor had I gone through a graduation ceremony, but that I'd taken two years of classes (required, prior to being accepted into the MOA program).  She explained that the position required an Associate's degree, and so I was quite surprised to hear her later in the conversation ask if tomorrow was a good day for me for an interview. Huh.

She also reviewed thoroughly my work history going back to 1990, asking about the two six-month gaps (from being laid off). She was so detailed: "And what have you been doing since being laid off in May?"  I said, "Looking for work. Well, actually, my mother died two weeks after that, so I've been dealing with a lot of paperwork and details with  the Estate."  She immediately said, "Sorry for your loss...," but then went right into that bit about the Interview. Hmm. Maybe they do bend the rules. I hope I am a good fit. TYG.

I'm a bit nervous because this job's starting  pay is more than $3 more per hour than the one I left. Makes me wonder if I was that much underpaid by BossJ? Or am I just at a better paying site--a hospital, rather than a private business. I guess I wonder if I'm worth it. J is very supportive, and was quick to point out of *course* I'm worth it. He's even more excited for me than I am. I'm just not allowing myself to count on this; I am going to do my best at the interview of course, but the outcome is not in my hands.

I joined WeightWatchers last week, and my first meeting was Tuesday morning at 9:30, which means my next meeting should be tomorrow, also; however now I have the interview instead. I will just change my WW meeting time to Tuesday evenings; I'd have to do that anyway once I start a job, so might as well do it now.

Life... perspective is crucial.

Sunday

The days just fly by, even though I'm not employed at a paying job. I struggle to find jobs to apply for: I must be actively searching for work, and keeping track of which ones I do apply for, and that's a challenge. There just aren't that many.  But I'm doing my best. This week I got a notice from the unemployment department that since it's now been over 4 weeks it's time to "review my work search efforts". Sigh. I understand I must jump through their hoops, so this will be an hour-long session with them where I bring my resume and they "help me" with my presentation. FINE.

I got a haircut Friday, and when it's still fresh, I struggle with what a change it makes in how I feel about myself. It always seems too short, like I'm exposing too much of my face. But it also feels more "professional". I don't want to feel shaggy if I get called for an interview; I must feel presentable, and employable.

My new membership dental plan kicked in Tuesday, so my app't with the new dentist was Wednesday morning, 830 am. I wasn't having a lot of pain that morning, but they took x-rays, and then confirmed my fear that it'll need  a root canal. They referred me to the same endo that did my procedure in February, but that doc isn't on my plan.

 The only endodontist on my plan is in Salem and Portland (he works in both offices).  When I called the Salem office, the earliest app't was September 15.  SEPTEMBER. This is simply to evaluate the tooth, not even to do the procedure. So I called the Portland office, and it wasn't much better, but the earliest they can get me in is August 1. Again, that is simply to look at it. Jeez. I hope this tooth can hold on til then, and not cause too much pain.

So, J and I have decided that will be the day we leave for Spokane, to do the painting up there. My app't is in the mid-afternoon, and so we'll just load up the car, the dog, and S, and then see the endo, and then drive east. We'll get in pretty late... But the blue furniture is still up there, and the sofa, and mom's bed. There should be some food there, too.

That next day, Thursday the 2nd, we've scheduled an app't with the lawyer; we'll officially meet him (Bob) and take care of paperwork, and we'll set up a meet with the realtor (Michael) too. The realtor has sent me the paperwork, so we need to print it out and then mail it to him. Keeping my fingers crossed that this will go smoothly...

And then we'll paint the interior of the house, and pack up the wagon wheels, and the rest of the food that survives. We'll sprinkle the ashes, and that should be the last visit.  And hopefully we'll be done and on the road home by Sunday.

With any luck my root canal procedure will be that following week. I'll have to put it on a credit card, because even with the membership plan it's just a discount; it's not insurance. It will definitely save me a bunch of money, but root canal is a huge expense no matter what. Sigh.

The other happy news  was that on Wednesday, my son N's "girlfriend" posted a mugshot of him, on Facebook. He'd been arrested and taken away, and is now sitting in jail on a number of charges, with bail set at $4500.  Good god. There were a huge number of comments on this action of hers; seemed most people were definitely of the idea that she shouldn't have done this. There was so much controversy, so many 4-letter words, so much ugliness, so much name-calling... her reason-excuse was that she needed his family and friends to know about this, so that they can pay the fine for him.  She took that photo down by the next day, thankfully.

Apparently she doesn't know about AlAnon's teachings. No one I know has any intention of paying his fine for him, even if we could.

It's so hard to be a parent of a kid with addiction/alcoholism issues. It breaks my heart.


 It's so hard to watch this happening, and know I didn't cause it, I can't cure it, and I definitely cannot control it. I can only pray for him, and remind myself he has a Higher Power of his own, and that these things are happening to him for a reason.

This is a physical disease he has, with severe emotional affects. I can easily go straight to "oh, my poor kid, my son, he must be so scared, so humiliated, in so much pain...I must save him!"   But I know better: I can't save him. I can't fix his life. He has to do this. And the horrible part is, he won't...until he is in enough pain  to make those changes. I have to allow this deep pain to happen to him.

The very next day was our wedding anniversary; we worked on the woodpile most of the day and quit at 3. We showered and changed to nice clothes, and drove out to Newport, to the place we got married in, and had a wonderful dinner. Afterwards we went down to South Beach, and walked on the mostly deserted sand, and soaked in the soul- restoring sound of the ocean, the wind, the waves.  It's been too long since we've been there.

AlAnon teaches me to take care of myself; to be gentle with myself. Putting my son's troubles away and allowing myself to live and enjoy my life despite my heartache is an act of self-care, just as is getting enough sleep, and eating the right healthy foods, and balancing my life with work and play. It was  a wonderful break, and I felt refreshed, and better able to accept my inability to "help" him.

Some days have gone by now, and each day I can think about him with less ache, and more heart. I don't know what will happen. But I'm okay with this, right now.

People in my meeting yesterday reminded me that many alcoholics find their way to a 12-step program while sitting in a jail cell. Nothing I've tried ever worked. I need to step back and let his God help in his own way, his own time.

I'm glad it's Sunday. 

Tuesday

Our house guest is gone; he did leave early Saturday morning as planned. Phew. Nice to have the house back to just ourselves.

The capper on the stay was when J and I got back from an evening walk, and I smelled cigarette smoke upstairs, where John had parked himself. We obviously don't allow cigarettes inside, yet this guy had just lit up without even asking. Plus the fact that he *had* money for cigarettes. Hmm. If you have money for cigarettes, you have money for other things. So J felt much better about this guy leaving.

And he also gave John $100. He'd discussed it with me, and I did agree-- to help J's guilt (over not allowing him to stay) lessen, and to help an old friend on his way.

Later that day my daughter came up to spend the afternoon and have dinner. She was so much fun, and we had a great day.  Despite having had a "kerfuffle" with my sister via email. Question: How the heck do you solve stuff via email? Answer: You don't. You pick up the phone and discuss.

 I strongly encouraged her to call and clarify the issue, and then apologize for having hurt her and made a mistake, and then discuss!!!   So it doesn't happen again. And so, in case one of them drops dead, there is no unresolved issue left hanging for the survivor to live with. I hope she did call. I haven't asked.

I am so grateful that mom and I dealt with our issues. I am comfortable with how it ended.

I have to admit though, I sometimes have a fear that she isn't dead after all. Maybe that's because I am reading/reviewing old letters and emails, and her voice comes through loud and clear. Sometimes it's a comforting voice, but more often it makes me cringe inside, and brace myself.  Then I remember she can't attack anymore, she can't hurt me. She is gone...

There are some potential issues with the Department of Recovery up in WA. I received a form in the mail from them yesterday, and it's sounding like they might try to "recover" money from the survivors, to help pay for what the State spent on her. I can't believe this would really happen, but I suppose it's possible. So J will be calling a lawyer today, one of the two names that Betsy gave me. He'll try to figure out what the heck is going on. This Dept wants mine and my siblings' contact info, SS numbers, addresses, and whether mom had any property.

Also yesterday the realtor called back finally, after having seen the house and land. He gave us a couple of options. One, we carry a contract for a potential buyer, and that way we would have money coming in for 15-20 years, if selling at probably $100K. He says there is a 7 out of 10 default rate this way...and in that case we'd need to do repossession, etc. (Ugh.)

Or two, he handles the sale the usual way, and in his opinion the house/land would sell for $80K, to buyers who want to live "off the grid", or to  what he called "outlaws". Yes, he actually said there were a lot of outlaw-types in that area.  People looking for privacy. Whatever.

I like that second option, frankly. No way do I want to be involved in a long-term relationship with that property. I'd much rather take less, and be done with it.   I think my sister and brother feel the same way.

I have a meeting this morning, and then another meeting this afternoon.

Not one job offer, or call, or anything. Very strange. I'm not worried, yet. We are doing alright financially with unemployment, and with barely any driving we aren't spending a lot on gas anymore. So far, so good.

Friday

A couple of things: I found a job I can get really excited about. It's at Samaritan, the big hospital/medical office conglomerate here. In RESEARCH!!! My field!!  ...so I got my app in today, and got the by-now standard response, that they have received my app and are reviewing all apps and will contact me.

Also, today I signed up for a "discount dental plan". It's not insurance. But it's  a plan where I  sign up (yearly), and then see contracted dentists/specialists at highly discounted rates. Considering my potential root canal issue, this will work out just fine. If it works, it'll save me hundreds of dollars. This plan doesn't take effect until Tuesday; so I have an appt with one of the participating dentists on Wednesday. I only hope the tooth pain is bearable until then...  I do have vicodin (or something similar) left over from the last episode, so I have been using this daily. It gives me a headache...but it does take away the worst of the tooth pain. I can live with it.

Thursday, just yesterday, around 11 am after we'd gotten back from our walk, we started working on the woodpile, as we'd planned. At some point Murphy started barking to alert us someone had pulled into the driveway. J finally went to see what was going on and the look on his face was something I will never forget. He just froze. And then said, "John. John Keene. What the he-...",  and that was all. This person is an old, old buddy of his from 35 years ago. 

J'd gotten a phone call a couple of weeks ago from a mutual friend of theirs, "warning" him that John was leaving their own home and heading to OR presumably to see us. But J kind of brushed it off, knowing John didn't have our phone number. (This old friend is now in very poor health, broke, homeless, moving around the country and "visiting" old friends, as in living with them until they kick him out...).  J was hoping John wouldn't dare show up here,  considering how many years it'd been. But yup--he appeared.  J felt put on the spot. This guy is literally dying, and lives on SS, and has no place to go. He out and out said that he had no place to stay until his SS money arrived at the end of July; that he was heading for LA to "visit" another mutual friend, that he didn't know what to do until then. So J agreed finally that he could stay here with us, for two nights only, until Saturday morning when J has to head up to P'land. 

I hope it's that simple. This friend's appearance has really shocked J. Not only his appearing here, but his literal appearance--he looks old, is struggling to breathe (he has congestive heart failure), and has burnt all bridges with other friends and family. The little pick-up he is driving has to be 30 years old, and looks pretty beat up.

So I have done a disappearing act, really; it's Friday night, and I'm wiped out. This guest has done absolutely nothing to show gratitude or thanks for being here.  He eats, he sleeps upstairs, he doesn't offer to do dishes or cook or clean--nothing.  Poor J is struggling-- he wants to help for the sake of old friendship, but has been completely caught off-guard by this person's presence.

    I have been taking refuge in my office, pleading the crush of work/papers/issues I must deal with because of mom's death. I am friendly of course, but this man is not someone I feel comfortable with. He's polite...but not someone I would ever spend *any* time of my own choice. I think J feels the same way,now.  John has really changed, according to J.  He feels guilty that he is "allowing" John to stay, and disrupting our lives, but I reassured him it was alright. Thank GOD J has to be in P'land Saturday; that way there is a built-in excuse for him to be on his way.

It's been  pretty hot, and expected to get hotter this weekend. Hot here is 90. I'm not looking forward to that.

My sister is arriving the 23rd, and I am looking forward to that.  It'll be a short visit, so we can go over Gramma's things and distribute them (to either us cousins, or my uncle's kids). It's been amazing going over all the papers, letters, photos, newspaper clippings, mementos, and the sheer volume of Family stuff. 

   This afternoon I have tackled mom's laptop--and the cleaning out of it. She complained so much about it over the past couple of years;  I have no idea why. Well, yes, I do know why: her brain just could not cope with it. It's a very nice machine, and once I can figure out how to connect to the Internet it will be a nice back-up machine.   But mom just  could not figure it out. When I opened it up today (fortunately the smoke smell is gone) the first thing I saw was my sister's, my brother's, and my daughter's email addresses, written in her spidery handwriting, taped to the top of her machine so it was the first thing she would see when she opened it. That made me sad, yet I was pretty touched. She so clearly wanted to remain in touch...but just could not, was not capable, of remembering those addresses.

    She also had my email and facebook passwords taped on the opposite corner of the laptop. She really struggled for so many months... I feel so sorry for her, and felt so sad that she was having such a hard time, for so long. I can see how hard she wanted it to work: but she just wasn't capable of remembering how to operate so many basic and simple programs. And because I couldn't understand what she didn't understand, I just felt irritated and upset and frustrated when she would complain.  So sad.  On all accounts.  She was such a difficult person in so many ways. 

I've stumbled across a letter which my cousin Robert wrote to my Gramma; he was suggesting some phrasing that my Gramma could use in crafting a letter to her stepson (or her other nephew Stockett). Robert wrote, "My daughter has been incapable of earning a living, and has been incapable of supporting herself, despite the best efforts of myself and her ex to encourage her to find some way to earn a living. It is my belief that she is emotionally incapable of working a full-time job..."  or words to that effect.

The more I think about that, the more I agree with it. She never did succeed in anything, despite her belief that "this is something I can  do!"  regarding so many different avenues... she would get so excited about so many things...and yet, nothing really worked.   She really failed at almost everything.

Another thing I read was in a letter from her brother to my grandmother; he wrote "if you can get Steve (F) to tell her to quit smoking, I believe she will do it-- she won't listen to anyone else".  She was 15 at the time. Her brother was 19.  Steve was her boyfriend.

Well. 

Lots to think about.

Thursday

   Yesterday it began to dawn on me that I'm dealing with some kind of depression. Or, maybe these mood swings, and anxiety attacks, and periods of lethargy alternating with periods of high energy are normal in the time after a death.  I don't know. I've also kept remembering intermittently that I no longer have a job, and that's really a huge issue for me. Grief on two levels.

   My (former!) boss texted me Tuesday night, and asked me to come down again and do some data entry, and it surprised me how much I didn't want to drive all the way again, after just doing that Monday. I drove that 4 days a week for 5 years and didn't really mind. But now that I don't have to do this amount of driving, I really don't want to!

    However, yesterday I did; brought the dog and met BossJ at the site, and we had a blast watching the dogs playing together. Since it was a holiday no one else was in the office, and we could let them bark and race up and down and play as crazily as they wanted. We have again decided that we do not want two dogs ourselves (which is something J and I have considered off and on, adding a friend for Murphy); it is absolutely nuts with two of them! Although maybe they'd be different if they were living together. Maybe they'd calm down. I don't know how Toni and Craig deal with all their dogs. I'd go mad. Give me the simple life, please.

   My daughter met me there to bring me the printer, and meet Chloe, BossJ's pup. She fell in love with that little thing.  She also took a couple of photos of us with our dogs. I was absolutely shocked when she sent them later in the day; my god, I look as big as a house. I was glad that J and I had walked 4 miles earlier, up to the store and back. I really do not feel I am over-eating, so it must be the level of activity... I'm going to re-start the writing down of every thing I eat, to keep me accountable. I'm also considering rejoining WeightWatchers.  I think the budget can stand the $14 a week fee...but I want to talk about it with J first. So far we are managing just fine on my unemployment benefits and his SS money.

   J is outside now working on the woodpile. And I'm procrastinating: I need to do the dishes, and then do my walk before it gets too hot, and then go return the movie we rented, and deposit the money BossJ paid me, and pick up my rx...blah blah blah. I really do not like my attitude one bit.  Can't seem to change it at the moment, so I'm writing, to vent.

   I've noticed the headaches are returning;   much worse, the tooth ache is coming back. I had that root canal on the lower left just a few months ago, and the pain now is focusing on the upper left. I'm so concerned about that, because it was horribly expensive.  (Not to mention painful.)  And of course I have no insurance anymore.  I have accident coverage and short-term disability through Aflac, and I have life insurance through AARP; but no health, vision, or dental anymore.  J assures me we will manage just fine if it turns out this becomes another root canal, and logically I do know we have the ability to pay for it, via a credit card if nothing else. SIGH.

Okay. I must stop this.

J has worked on the garden a lot. We've enjoyed artichokes, and lettuce, and that's it so far. Lots of peas coming, along with squashes, zukes, carrots, potatoes. Finally the sun is here, so things will really start now.

Blah. Need to remember things will get better. This too shall pass.

Monday

I still have not created a spreadsheet thing to track expenses. I think I'm putting this off, because I'm not sure how involved this will be. Plus I haven't made the time to sit down and do it.

Saturday I went to my meeting in the morning, and walked in the afternoon, and then sat at my desk sorting and reviewing through more boxes.  J was in Portland all day and got home around 5:30 just bushed. I made dinner: baked chicken, and then I tried the artichokes again, and this time it turned out better. I cooked them for at least an hour, simmering in a few inches of water, and then turned off the heat and let them sit. So they tasted better, and while they are labor-intensive, they were yummy.

Sunday I was intending to work on papers again since it was cool and damp outside and I would rather be inside; but J asked if I'd help with the woodpile: not the chopping which J did, but the stacking. So off and on all day we did this, working up quite a sweat. Also I mowed, and J weed-eated, and we washed the kitchen floor (after spilling two full cups of tea all over the table and floor...ugh). Cleaned out the shed outside, and also cleaned out the lower cabinet in the kitchen; and in the late afternoon I prepared a  beef stew. We haven't had that for awhile, and it turned out well.

We'd gone to the bank Friday where we have a good relationship with Gail (one of the people who help with special requests). She notarized the request for the WA title, and made copies for us, and even helped by faxing the death certificate to the Dept of Education in relation to mom's school loan.  I was so proud of myself, getting everything in order for this stupid title thing, and then I sealed everything all up and mailed it, making the last mail pick up of the day.  Saturday morning I realized I'd forgotten to put the check in the envelope. Argggh.  So it'll arrive there today, and someone will open it, and send it back to me pointing out that they'd sure like to help but they can't do it without money. Sigh. More time wasted. My own fault. I was rushing.

Still, when J went to P'land, he was so tired at the end of the day that he forgot numerous items and will have to drive back up later this week to pick them up. It might just make sense to combine this with a trip over the border to a WA DMV, and pay the money right then.  We'll just have to make a day of it.

  I found an old letter Stockett had written to my mom back in 1996, bringing her up to date on his life; he just sounds like so much fun. I wish I could meet him. His company sent another check, so I took some time yesterday to write him (he doesn't have email) and send a couple of photos, along with returning the check.

  I haven't heard back from one of my other cousins, yet; I have a huge box filled with her and her dad's correspondence and  photos.  Gramma wanted this stuff to go back to her when the time came, but if I don't hear back from her I don't know how long to store it.   Robert did get back to me, and definitely does want his dad's stuff; I have several boxes and envelopes building up for various peoples...my uncle was a very prolific writer from a young age, and it's been a real hoot getting to know him through his letters.

Today I drive down to the mall and meet my daughter. She's giving us an extra printer/copier, and we're loaning slash bringing her money for rent which she will pay back.  I need to return some jeans I'd ordered from a website, and since they are too big (a pleasant surprise) I will go directly to that store and see if they're in a smaller size.

 Plus, I realized I really have no outfit to wear on interviews. To clarify, I have exactly one outfit, but it's for much cooler weather--long sleeved, heavier material, and very fitted. I'd like something that is more flexible for whatever weather we are having.

And I can pick up the books we need for the Saturday group.

The weather is still only in the upper 50s today. I'm very grateful, especially when I look at the news and see the horrific weather the rest of the country is having. I'm wearing a flannel shirt and jeans with socks! The rest of the country is sweltering in above 90 degree heat and humidity. Ugh.

J is making French toast for breakfast...yum.