This day is beginning with humidity, but there's no rain indicated.
Monday was BIL's official retirement day, although I've learned since that he is going to remain as a "special consultant". Not sure how much time that will involve, but right now he is catching up on projects around their house that have been put off.
Tuesday was a quiet day. Although I did receive some gorgeous flowers from my neighbors, Barry and Kitty. No reason at all. I haven't seen her in person for several months; in fact I'd wondered if she had died. But that morning, when Missy started barking, I went to look and almost didn't recognize Kitty, who was carefully navigating the walkway to the front door. She was so unbalanced she was walking with her arms outstretched, and still was determined to get to the door holding this beautiful bunch of flowers and greenery.
I gave her a gentle hug, and she is a tiny little thing, just skin and bones-- she and he are maybe 10 years older than me. J was good friends with them and they have kind of been keeping an eye on me since. She looks awful, frankly. I knew she had a terminal cancer, but can't remember what kind. It was so sweet of them.
Wednesday morning I got up early to get ready to go get my blood drawn. I had the same phlebotomist as last time, and this time it all went perfectly-- I didn't feel a thing, and better than that she got the vein right away. No bruising, no pain. Phew!
J's daughter Amelia has two daughters of her own, and the oldest celebrated a birthday this day also; she is 12, just like my granddaughter Layla.
I skipped the Zoom meeting that evening, not feeling well enough to be "on".
Thursday morning I finally decided to refill the bird feeders in front. When I took them down, I saw the bird seed had solidified into a caked on mess. I spent quite some time scraping that stuff out, and cleaning the two feeders. I even put them in the dishwasher and did a cycle, which did a great job. They are my copper feeders, so easy to fill and keep track of, and the birds love them. When I re-hung them, it wasn't long before the birds were back. I really should have checked them a few weeks ago.
MissS was here also late morning Thursday, and mowed both front and back lawns. She is an Angel. Afterwards we both got in the pool, drifting and talking. She spotted two pileated woodpeckers in a tree close by, hammering away, maybe making a nest?
After we began cooling off, we came back inside and we finished watching a movie I'd started earlier with Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell. MM would have been 100 on June 1, if she'd lived. She missed so much, leaving the planet when she did. Poor thing.
MissS treated us to a pizza and sub from Marco's. My sub was yummy, and my eyes got the better of me. I ate the whole 6 inches and felt quite overfull afterwards. Most uncomfortable. I learned my lesson-- but it was so nice to eat something I hadn't prepared myself!
Friday morning was my sons' 40th birthday. Much to my surprise I heard from both of them that morning, early. Both admitted to feeling older and some shock, and the ongoing grief of losing their dad.
Later in the morning I made a new recipe called Hummingbird Dump Cake, and took it out of the oven at noon. It took me a few minutes to find a container to carry the 9x13 pan, which was quite hot! Then I took it out to the car and drove up to Sis' and BIL's and Dad's house, where I arrived at 1pm. We caught up on things and had some of the cake. It was very, very good and very rich... Everyone loved it. I left plenty there when I left at 2:45, and stopped at Publix to pick up my meds.
Back at home, I got in the pool, and drifted for awhile before doing my stretching. When I got back inside and was trying to figure out what to do for dinner, I got another text from Nick. (He had shared earlier that they didn't have food stamps anymore due to the Felon's new requirements for food stamps. They've been living on food boxes passed out by various churches.)
He had also shared they had to move out by the 17th, and didn't know what they were going to do. (The property, the whole apartment complex, has been sold to new owners, who are going to revamp the whole thing and charge more money.) He said they weren't drinking as much, therefore Jason wasn't having any more seizures, and was "doing fine".
In this second conversation, he did ask very gently if I could send them some groceries, using Walmart's free delivery service. We went back and forth for a few minutes, figuring out logistics and what foods would be useful. He even called, using the video call on Messenger. I was both glad to see them, and shocked.
Even though he'd said they weren't drinking as much, it was clear they were drunk. Sigh. I don't know why I ever believe them, or expect any different. They both looked godawful.
I finally figured out how to do the WM delivery, and ending up filling several shopping bags-- in OR they use paper bags with handles for the delivery; I'd forgotten they are so progressive back there that they have banned plastic bags. Wish the whole country would. Wish I lived in a blue state.
The text came to me from WM that the order was delivered at 6:11 pm, their time... so of course it was after 9 here. I notified Nick, but he said it wasn't there at their door, as promised. The photo showing the delivery wasn't very clear, but I sent it to Nick to see if he could figure out where the bags were delivered.
While he did that, searching all around the complex, I sent a scathing review to WM, and removed the tip I'd added for the driver. I was so angry! At one point I had texted Nick that since I couldn't fix it from here, it was up to him to go and find it. I said how angry I was that I'd bought $87 worth of food, and for him to please not tell me this was a waste. I'd even chosen a small birthday cake from the WM bakery.
I don't know why I keep expecting gratitude. Eventually he did text that he'd found it. It was misdelivered to the other side of the complex. There were five bags of groceries, and two gallons of milk. I don't know how many trips he made back to his apartment, but that's part of why I was so angry and disappointed. To go to the effort of arranging a delivery, and then have it mismanaged so badly.
So I had done my best, and because I was tired and disappointed I probably did not handle stuff in the best way. This is why I need the Meetings: I needed a reality check on what to expect, and what not to expect.
The next morning, Saturday, I woke up feeling physically awful. I don't know if it was the cake (which I'd only had a small serving of but OMG it was rich, and I'd used real butter since this was the first time I made it), or the fact that I'd restarted the damn antibiotic the day before, or the ongoing pain in my leg/hip or, as my friend N later gently pointed out, the emotional phone call and aftermath of all the emotions.
I debated not going to the meeting, being deeply afraid I wouldn't make the trip without needing a bathroom before my arrival there. But by the time I thought of that, I had remembered I had the key to the door, and had to go. Plus I didn't have B's phone number to alert him to my absence.
I made it to the meeting safely, but explained to him I might need to leave. I must have looked pretty bad, because this non-hugger actually put his arm around me and softly suggested I sit down and relax. He and the others finished setting up. I skipped the coffee, and just sipped on water. By the end of the meeting I felt emotionally better, as always.
Physically I could tell it wasn't as bad, but I was still on the verge of tears; one of my widow friends there could tell, and she whispered some words of encouragement to me.
I was talking to yet another widow friend, and my friend K passed behind me bringing the supplies back to their storage area. I saw him out of the corner of my eye and reached out to pat him on the shoulder as I was listening. A minute later, I was enfolded from behind and he said, "That wasn't enough of a hug-- let's do this properly!" So sweet.
I did relearn what to expect from active alcoholics-- nothing. It was my choice to supply them with some food. It was funded by my insurance benefits card, so it didn't even cost me a thing.
My mistake was expecting gratitude, more thanks than the simple "thanks Mom" I got. Seeing them on the video call was shocking, and frightening. One of my friends reminded me that as they age, they will experience more and more health issues. Then I reminded him they already had pretty serious issues-- the heart thing for Nick and the seizures for Jason. Both of them know they are alcoholic, they are not in denial anymore. How much worse do things have to get before they decide to try recovery? And what will happen to them after the 17th-- all their belongings and their dad's stuff, the cat, the car with its flat tire due to a nail.
I try not to involve myself in their lives, especially since they rarely ask for help. They know what needs to happen. I've been thinking about all this since Friday, and I know this is part of not enabling them. Maybe this eviction will be their bottom.
It's so hard to have hope without expectations.
On the way home from the meeting, I was so low on gas I had to fill up, so I went to the Cumberland station I normally use. Oddly, every single time I tried to squeeze the handle to activate the fuel, it would almost immediately stop, or give me a gallon and then stop. There was no button to request help, so at the $4 mark I just gave up. Replaced the fuel pump hose, and left. I went to a 7/11 further up the road and even though it was more expensive I didn't care. I filled up there with no problem.
At home I did laundry, sweeping, remade the bed after the laundry was done, and actually took a nap. When I woke up I still didn't feel right, and the pool was only 82, so I skipped it.
Instead I found a movie called On The Beach, with Gregory Peck, Ava Gardner, and Fred Astaire, the first time he'd done a dramatic role, with no dancing. I'm going to have to read this book because it was riveting.
Set in 1964 Australia, because a nuclear accident has affected most of the world; it's filmed in B&W. Along with the other residents of this town, they are the final survivors; the movie moves us over the next five months as the radiation in the air increases. It was scary to watch, because this could so easily happen to us. Especially now with the political climate as it is.
I have nothing going on this week, but I was able to access my lab results on Thursday. The bad news is the CoQ10 I've been on for 3 months didn't help at all with the cholesterol level. It's still considered "borderline high" so I'm not sure if I will be put on a statin, or whether they wait until it's officially "high". My appt isn't until next week, so I'll learn then.
Arghh. What an interesting week. Oh, and today is June 7-- the days that mom and Gramma died, although 12 years apart. Gramma died in 2000, mom in 2012.
Sortedbyname.com lists Gramma's death date as June 8. Interesting. (Edit: we found the death certificate, which also lists the date as June 8. Why did we think it was June 7??)
Also fascinating is the below. It leads to a blogger who chronicles genealogical histories, and this entry concerns the house that Gramma lived in while growing up in Manhattan, also explaining the connection between the Edmonds and the Raetze families, which I had mostly forgotten or gotten confused on. I hadn't realized Stuart Edmonds was actually Gramma's adopted brother, along with Gris. I think I remember a tragedy involving Gris as well, but I can't remember the details. Probably Robert or Richard know.
https://daytoninmanhattan.blogspot.com/2025/12/the-edward-t-and-viola-b-cockcroft.html
TYG
