It's not 1986 and I'm not Sixteen

I received a message from one of the guys in my high school friend group a month ago.  We used to be good friends but then he joined the Army and never returned.  He was complicated (a jerk, to some) and I dated his older brother. More complicated, for the friend.

The last time I heard from him he was in town was years ago. He wanted to surprise my mom on the 4th of July.  I told him that it wasn't a good idea that I had gone low-contact and she was showing signs of dementia. He said okay and that was the end of that.  I didn't hear from him for any other kind of visit so that told me he more wanted to see the fireworks than to see me. Or my mother, for that matter.

At first, I only looked at the message preview to see "Hi, how has life been treating you? Hope all is well"  I immediately felt annoyed.  Not a good start.

a) if he was following me or looked at my social media, he would see three parents dead in three years, which made me then realize that he didn't reach out when my mom died.  The mom he so much wanted to see years ago.

2) My impulsive immediate answer I wanted to say was "Lost three parents in three years, living in a political hellscape, but I guess I'm healthy? And just what do you want?"

That feels like too much.  It's probably too much? lol. 

I opened the message and my impulse was correct. Here is the paraphrased message because it really depicts how he is. Hi, how has life been treating you? Hope all is well. Cherish the time with your pup, we had to put ours of 13 1/2 years down three weeks ago. Hard thing and then the empty house. I am visiting Mom from the 1st till the 10th of October. With you guys being into the car / race scene, any good machine shops?  Info here is scarce and thin quality. Any info or help is greatly appreciated. Time for a coffee while I am in town? 

So, typical. Checking in but because he needed something. I responded with a referral to a shop including the owner's name and said I didn't know because we didn't deal with what he's asking about. He replies with name-dropping the expensive parts he had, followed with Life nowadays is always a challenge. Can’t we just go back to the 80’s? Was so much more fun. *smiley face* I am just looking for some input and knowledge which setup makes more sense for my setup.  No faith in my own brother anymore. Was thrilled to get a response. Thanks   (paraphrased)

I didn't answer right away because I won't support sh*t talking about his brother. His brother who has taken care of their parents and their mother completely on his own. He settled his dad's estate and cleaned up the hoarding mess he left behind, alone.  He takes dinner to their mother every single night; she lives in town and he lives out in the farmland. Clearly his brother drew a boundary after their dad passed and this guy is/has been very entitled.  So that's the story there. 

Also, let's break this down as if diagnosing an issue:  

• Looked at social media enough to know about the dog, the most recent post on my social media.
• Yet still included himself in that acknowledgement.
• Then the wistful response of the Good Old Days, which weren't so much good.  
• Then a rephrase of his request for information I already stated I didn't have.  
• Then the judgy family comment.  
• Finishing with a nice comment paired with a vague offer to get together.  

Almost a week later, I replied simply that I didn't have suggestions and sorry I can't be of more help. Again.

A few hours later he sends a screenshot of a business and asks if I know them. Eventually I answered that we used to know one of the owners but it's been twenty years and I don't know anything about them now.   He messaged back almost immediately that "There's only one owner" and proceeded to tell me about the guy we knew has stage 4 cancer.  And that they were great.  Sigh.  

a) thanks for the correction 2) thanks for the bad news about a former friend and c) I don't care.

I didn't answer him at all. I just found myself exhausted with him.  Life has been too hard to revert back to high school, which it feels like he's never left. Also, I am no longer the sixteen year old who would hang on his every word.  I have changed but clearly, he has not realized that and again: he has not.

Then a few weekends after that exchange, I posted on social media about going racing.  I wondered if he would reply at all.  It's been weeks and CRICKETS.  No reactions to the videos, nothing.  So, that tracks.  

Now it's almost November and radio silence.  As expected. No coffee for me.  Also, fair because I didn't fawn over his every word to feed any kind of interest.  I didn't "earn" coffee at that point.

Anyway, aways follow your instincts.  Also, between the menopause and the grief, I just can't with people.

600 Dolls and Data Entry

 I just had such a pleasant afternoon.  I haven't said something like that in literal years so you might be wondering what happened.

I just spent an hour listening about whale oil lamps and the origin story of glassware in the Colonies.  No, I didn't have to buy a ticket or find a podcast. I'm volunteering at the county Historical Museum.  One of the other volunteers brought show and tell from his home and it was oddly fascinating.

He had a whale oil lamp like this but with red glass overlay
It was gorgeous!

One of the other volunteers collect these lamps, paperweights, and many other objects.  As you can imagine, he's probably on the spectrum as he has encyclopedic knowledge and he's not only happy to share, he presents it in an interesting way.  I would have enjoyed history so much more if presented the way he does.

What had happened was:

A few months ago, there was a request for volunteers to complete data entry.  One of the requirements was the ability to read cursive.  I thought about it but because school was beginning, it was bad timing. I decided that I would reconsider later in the Fall.

Then I ran into a childhood friend at my hometown's historical display.  She is on the board for both museumsj and asked if I would ever be interested in helping.  I mentioned that I considered volunteering for the data entry and asked what she thought.  She was very positive and supportive so that added to the interest.

The startup for the school year went very smoothly this year and suddenly my schedule was open again. I reached out and they were all "When can you start?"  I chose an afternoon shift because my work day is usually finished by then.  Then I chose a Thursday so I wasn't starting out the workweek already feeling overloaded.

The drive is longer than I thought it would be: 35 minutes!  But it's so beautiful there, the town and the museum. (it's above a tourist town that's located on the water)  The people are really nice.  In fact the person who runs the front desk/greeting area happens to be my boss's best friend.  Such a small world in the valley.  The person I work with is young - 4 yrs out of university - but really knowledgeable and very motivated to do big things.

Unfortunately, because we live in the dumbest timeline, the funding is being eliminated by the County.  The museum is also funded by private donations, grants, and other sources so it's not dire. But it's nto great either. Today was spent impromptu brainstorming ideas to get attention for the museum. Podcasts! Walking tours! Cemetary tours! Scavenger hunts!  Haunted house!

Now, this is where I learned about donations.  An estate bequeathed 400 dolls to the museum.  They joined dolls who already resided there; increasing the doll population to over 600!  And they're all stored in a specific room. This is where I adamantly DECLINED to help in that particular area.  Even the curator was all "Oh, they're haunted for sure. Even I don't like going in there"  

What I have been doing is scanning documents and data entry which sounds boring (a little) but you're reading what you're working with (museum donations) and that makes it interesting.  There are other volunteers and one lady - who is my age and Am I That Old? - is capital C chatty.  But it's kind of nice. She is the daughter of my driver's ed teacher.  Again: the valley is small. lol  Then today I met the gentleman with the encyclopedic knowlege of glassware.

It's supposed to be like a two month commitment and I've been wondering if I want to continue once the project is finished.  I kind of want to, depending on what they need. (no fundraising for sure)  But that is a long drive for just volunteering and we're going to be in Winter soon.   The coordinator mentioned that she thought this specific project is getting completed sooner than planned so there's that.  Then today we discussed doing display inventory (actually seeing/counting the items) and other more hands-on projects.  Again, my curiousity is piqued.

As a bonus, I've been able to take family historical photos -including pages from my paternal grandmother's albums - there for donation.  That feels good; knowing that they're preserved at the museum and not just sitting in a drawer here and I didn't realize what a relief that would be to have them somewhere safe and useful.  Also, I'm surprised how accepting they are of items. Another local museum is hyper-specific and the County museum is all "Sure! We love it!"  

So, the moral of this story is volunteer if you're able.  Organizations like this museum are losing funding and support due to living in the dumbest timelines.  It's a great learning experience and I've met some interesting people.  Also: it's getting me out of the house.  Everyone wins.

We're All a Little Mad Here

 

Happy Fall

 

September 21st

 

https://youtu.be/Gs069dndIYk?si=TGXM83zwb4yI4gSn

Not Grumpy

 When my mother-in-law passed, I got the flower bouquet tattoo.  I love it still and had planned all along to get a mate to it when my father-in-law passed.

But I couldn't decide on a good image.  He has a nickname that is one of the Seven Dwarves.  So that seems simple and obvious.  Except I just didn't like it.  It felt too "drunk eighteen-year-old girl in Vegas getting her first tattoo"

So I kind of put it out into the universe and waited.  Finally, Kevin mentioned while we were out to dinner "Why don't you get the sign they had in their house?"

First off, know that he said that with ZERO CONTEXT so I was very confused mid-bite of my seafood fetucini. Because there are two signs he referred On Our Wall and another one outside.  Then he clarified and said "As a tattoo. You like that saying and you said we gave them that sign"

"All because two people fell in love..."

Well, that's a great idea! I loved it immediately.  A few days later I searched for dragonfly line art and found one that I liked.  I made a picture incorporating the saying and the dragonflies then emailed it to the tattoo artist as a suggestion of what I wanted.

When I got my first tattoos, it was almost a two month wait.  This time it was less than a week. Whew, no backing out now.  (I could but, still)

I wanted it on my inner bicep.  The tattoo artist gently guided me to another idea because that skin is tender and soft.  The artwork would look distorted, especially as we age.  She suggested another area on my arm and I wasn't as excited about it but went with it anyway.  She also suggest that it be a little larger than the size I actually chose and she was RIGHT.   Listen to your artist, they know things.

It didn't hurt badly, about the same as the ones on my forearms.  The healing time went really quickly and I'm overall happy with it. Is it my favorite? No.  Do I wish it was a little different? Yes.

But, I can - and maybe will - add to it. The artist is the kind of person that I could say "Hey, can we change this a little" and she would be happy to do so.  But I do love that when I look down at my arm, I see a dragonfly.  It has little mid-century modern stars sprinkled around so maybe add some more of those somehow.

While chatting during the work, because I ask questions endlessly in order to distract myself, she wondered if I would consider having the bouquet colored in.  I said no because I like the line art and she was disappointed.  She even jokingly said "It's the height of white privilege; you have the whitest skin and it would look so good!"  Maybe someday but probably not.

She also mentioned that I had gotten three tribute tattoos and that I should really get something just for myself.  I admit that this has occurred to me but I haven't found The One.  I asked her about the most common ones then it sequed into two directions:

The use of Asian alphabet and symbols and how often they are wrong.  So much so that she refuses to do them.  She told a story about trying to convince a girl to not have a specific character because it was wrong (thanks to the internet) but the girl had it done anyway. (not by her)

I mentioned that Kevin made the joke that the Doctor Who tattoo in honor of our 30th anniversary "could be for anyone, my name isn't anywhere."  I explained to the artist that I'm GenX and how having his name on me would just feel like branding.  (as in cattle, not as in influencers)

She said that when people get their significant others names tattooed, it's practically guaranteed that they will break up.  So much so that it's tattoo artist lore and most artists will try to convince clients Not To.

Also, she mentioned that she got through the whole Live Laugh Love trend without one of those tattoos on her own body.  I made the joke of Live Laugh Toaster Bath and she laughed at that idea.  She said "We can design it subtle" and I laughed in response "If I were to do that, I wouldn't Want it subtle"  I would probably never but it's tempting.

I realized also that my mother died without seeing my tattoos.  It's a relief because she would have been annoyed.  She was angry when one of my nieces got a tattoo with her friends when she was an adult.  The girls even agreed that she would have been mad.

So, now I'm pondering.  I've become the older lady who gets tattoos, I think.  

Just above my elbow, on the bicep
And wow can you tell my English/Irish/Scottish heritage

Ding Dong, It's Delivery

 For the first time ever - ever, in 35 years - we just had pizza delivered to our door.  

What had happened was this is the first game of the season for the Seahawks and it's a weeknight game.  The house policy (that I made up) is that if it's Monday or Thursday Night Football, we have pizza for dinner.  Usually I just get a take and bake then I don't have to worry about keeping it warm.

But today I really didn't want to drive all the way into town.  Then I realized that with modern-day technology, I could probably have pizza DELIVERED.  And the skies shone and the birds sang.  

Because it's the first time I did it, the fee was waived and I had an online code so it was almost the same as if we had picked it up ourselves.  And by the time we evaluate my time and gas, now I'm saving money.  Also, I'll go deactivate the account tomorrow. Otherwise, this could be a problem, lol.

The delivery driver was a guy, not a young man.  He was in a Seahawks jersey and said everyone has been ordering tonight.  I explained that this is the first pizza delivery ever to this house, he was surprised and excited for me.  (and he was very handsome, btw.  All the winning today)

When we moved up here way back in the 1900's, that was the one thing that really bothered me about living so rurally: no pizza delivery.  Now I felt just as excited as I did when I lived in my own apartment and waited for the delivery car; which was a Ford Pinto back then. Classic small town.

GO HAWKS!

Chatty Email - August, now September

 We went to see The Odyssey.  In the movie theater.  It was... A LOT.  We never go to the movies, it's too much sensory input for me. I had some working knowledge of the story, Kevin did not. After 30 minutes of commercials, the movie finally began.  The movie that is almost 3 hours long. So we began it already frustrated.

It started out strong and then...it just needed a brutal editing.  Some parts just went on far too long. I won't give an example because: spoilers but you'll know when you know.  Also, theaters are so loud now that I was actually covering an ear through parts of it.  It had a satisfying ended, for me.  For Kevin, he wanted to leave about two-thirds through.  This is very unlike him.

So...go see it but keep an open mind or wait for streaming and keep an open mind.  Beautifully shot, great acting.  Needed an Editor.  I think that particular story is like the bible or Jane Austen, it's up for interpretation and we don't always like the adaptations we see.

I've watched Schitt's Creek in its entirety once; meaning from Episode One to the last in consecutive order.  Then I immediately started it again to pick up on all the details I missed and because it's so great.  Now it's one of my comfort watches.

Something kept catching my eye in one of their rooms.  Finally I stopped it and took a photo:

Look at the painting in the corner. I'm sorry that I can't get a better photo

Then I looked over to my bedroom wall and saw this:

Now, we inherited this painting from Kevin's mom.  It's always been in the houses we've lived in.  It was reportedly painted by a family member or was a gift...or both.  You know how these kinds of stories happen in families.  It's signed but the name doesn't ping on the interwebs. So, that's kind of fun.

Books!  I started and did not finish "Romantic Comedy"  I tried, I really did.  I felt myself skipping ahead to the next page, never a good sign.  I was interested in the premise of a Saturday Night Live setting but that was temporary.  Moreso, it's a romance written by a man. Meaning the female protagonist received a d!ck pic and wasn't instantly repulsed.  There's a lot of emphasis about how boyish her co-writer is and the all American good looks  the love interest has. I made it through the first act; then the second changed writing styles that was momentarily intriguing. Then I got bored again. The book went to the neighborhood library unfinished.  I have plenty of options to choose from instead of feeling obligated to a book that the internet recommended. If you're keeping score, one out of four internet recommended books I have enjoyed. And even though I enjoyed it, it went into the library as well.

However, despite evidence, I've since finished The Wedding People (LOVED it) and One Day With You (was chosen on a whim and ended up loving) and am halfway through This Book Made Me Think of You.  What's strange about that book is it talks about losing the ability or desire to read while in grief.  100% a real thing.

It's the busy time of the school year for me. Thus the gap in posting because the last thing I want to do is sit MORE at the computer. Every year I think that I'm ready and every year, I am not; it's just the nature of the job. As an odd coping tool, I've had Grey's Anatomy playing like a podcast.  Last week it reached the Pandemic season.  I thought about skipping it but it felt important to watch it.  I think we too easily forget how horrific that time period was. I was surprised to realize that there were things that I had forgotten. As a result, I think these episodes should be shown in high schools, in current event or health classes. Or annually like the 9/11 tragedy. Instead of stats that people won't remember, provide stories like those.

In the middle of last year, I thought it was a good idea to conduct a shampoo experiment.  Between stress and being a certain age demographic, my hair had taken a hit.  I tried Native and liked the scent but it was overwhelming but it left my hair tangly. I tried Dove and it was just okay.  I tried...now I can't remember...and it was okay.  After having, no exaggeration, seven bottles of shampoo and conditioner in the shower I decided to combine Native and Dove into one bottle.  It actually worked out okay.  What I finally landed on was what I have always used: Pantene (I know people hate it but it works for me) and Dove.  The internet said the key is to wash your hair twice so I use one and then the other then the Pantene conditioner.  It works really well!  A good result from a experiment ended by impulsive frustration.  The other suggestion was to rinse your hair in cold water before getting out.  OH HELL NO.  I'm not ruining my cozy, low-sensory shower with cold water.  GTFO  

Also, I had learned to cut my own hair during the Pandemic.  But the way I learned created layers and that can be challenging in hoodie season.  Now I have Kevin blunt cut it with his razor every six weeks.  Slowly, I've taken off about four to five inches in length and that has helped a lot.  I felt better when I read a post by someone who mentioned what a relief it was to not go to the stylist anymore.  I hadn't realized how much that stressed me out. (too much sensory, making a phone call, ack!)

Fall is beginning in the PNW.  We had a decent summer, not too hot or too rainy and a short smoke season. But I'm ready for it to ease into Fall now.  I'm planning on taking out my Fall decorations tomorrow and (allegedly) I may have bought some Fall candles and pumpkins the other day. Allegedly.

This is What Happens When I Have to People

 I had the annual Startup meeting for work today, which means I had to people all day and be pleasant.

So, of course, I chose violence when I got the opportunity.

I've mentioned before that my work has a Mental Health Consultant.  Her focus is mainly on the families we serve but she's also available to staff.  She is the kind person with the head  tilt that asked how I was doing at a meeting months ago.

Similarly to that, she asked how my summer was.  I gave a thoughtful answer: I said it was quiet and I was enjoying it but not used to it.  Then we were interrupted because: meeting.

Hours later, she asks me "What is making your summer so quiet?  Why are you having to adjust to it?"

This...this is where I could have been Very Demure, Very Mindful.

Instead, I chose Chaos Goblin.

Now, to be fair, I looked at my job partner first.  She's more familiar with the Mental Health Consultant and she knows me.  She just smiled and said "She's safe.  Just rip off the band-aid."  Then she smiled, as if to dare me.

And I giggled.  I paused.  I thought Okay, bet while keeping eye contact with job partner before casting my eyes to the Mental Health Consultant.

"Well, all of my parents died"  Mixed reactions of gasps and laughter from my coworkers...

 "And I don't know what to do with my time now.  There's no calls to make, no paperwork, no visits to schedule.  It's just...quiet"

Is it bad when a Mental Health Professional is surprised silent?  It feels bad.

She recovered and asked something like "You really had all that going on?"  and my coworkers answered for me.  She meant this kindly, btw.  I explained that I was the person who called, who did the forms, who made appointments, who made people cry when I needed to.

"You made people cry?"  she asked.  

"Yes, when they weren't doing what they were supposed to do. Yes"

Then something happened and we were interrupted again.  I'm certain she was relieved.  She did take a moment to express condolences and support a few minutes later though.

Now I'm certain there's a note in my Permanent Record that I may be a mental health risk.  

LOL/JK/But Maybe...

Raising Ourselves - a Summer Project

 It's Smoke Season, sadly.  There was a Stay Indoors Advisory issued today for the rest of the week.  As much as that is inconvenient for us, it's because someone else's life went up in literal flames.

Which then made me think of this:

I have a document safe that we bought when I was closing the parents house.  I was embarrassed/horrified that they had such a proactive item and we did not.  Also, I have to share that I found theirs under shoeboxes in the back of the closet; after I had looked everywhere for some needed documents. It is not only a great hiding space for such a thing; we probably should have known prior to The Whole Thing.  As a result of that experience, the kids already know where ours is located.

Anyway, right now the lock box has our birth and marriage certificates and divorce decrees.  Titles to our vehicles.  Everyone's social security cards. Death certificates for both parents. Insurance & Life insurance information.  A printed listed of passwords because, of course, I have a spreadsheet of them.  A notebook listing the items in the house with their approximate worth and where they came from.  ("end tables from your nana's house prior to the Moody House" kind of thing)  I need to print a budget kind of thing because only I handle that kind of thing.

Our wills are in progress; as are the Advanced Directives. Kevin has a guy at work who is a Notary so one day soon I'll just go have lunch with Kevin and get it all notarized. My goal is to have them completed this month.  There are free templates on the interwebs. Surprisingly the American Red Cross is where I found ours.  (freewill.com - Not An Endorsement)

While doing this, be prepared to make some difficult decisions.  Also, know that you will have to answer "But what if" a few times.  As in, I bequeath my personal property to  Niece and Nephew.  Well, what if they die before me?  Then I bequeath it to the Young Nephews.  What if they die also?  It's a little madness making, really.

AND in the willI  learned something new, there is a section for Digital Executor.    It has you decide who and how you want your digital life handled after your passing.  Digital Property includes all your socials, website or blog, email.  While a fantastic idea, that's another thing to think about.

Also, MyChart has a whole section where you can enter your needs, wants and wishes when it comes to end of life care.  People who are relatively healthy and young have a Living Will or Advanced Directive.  Elderly and/or folks with chronic/incurable/palliative care have a POLST, formerly known as a DNR. 

Then because once you read anything on the interwebs, the algorithms think that's all you want to read;  I read that anything you have residing in a file cabinet should be scanned and put into the cloud.  I have two issues with this: data centers that house said cloud items and Kevin's statement of "If you die, I won't know where anything is and "in the computer" is not going to be helpful."  Fair enough.  

The filing cabinet has become a little obsolete and it's one of my least favorite things. Because of that, I'm looking forward to using it for a different purpose.  Also, I know that I'll probably still keep hard copies of some things but not nearly as much as before.  

Then there's CD's and thumb drives of photos.  Most of which probably already live in the cloud but I have to Make Sure.  Once that is done, then only important photos will go onto the thumb drives and into the safe.  (family historical, etc.)  (this is now done in the time it took to finish this post)

Also on the list was recent taxes.   Already I have the past five years sealed in a large ziplock but that will take a big space in the safe. The rest are bundled together and I need to just shred them.  But the What-If's are making me keep them right now. Maybe once Kevin retires.  These are also scanned also but I've heard that often hard copies are what is needed. (I have no idea why in this day and age)  Thus causing the purchase of the second smaller document safe. 

Then it mentioned jewelry. Now I have another thing on my to-do list.  I have to call the insurance to ensure that my mother-in-law's wedding ring is insured. The original appraisal was for a surprisingly high amount and I wear it every day so it feels like something that should be prioritized.  Anyway, we have a few heirloom rings and watches that just sit in a box and now I have to think about what should go into the safe. #firstworldproblems #privilege

Then Kevin chimed in with getting an actual safe and bolting it to the floor of a closet.  Umm, no.  I'm overwhelmed with THIS task.  Maybe once I have everything organized.  Nothing we have is that valuable.  Calm down, Kevin.

This is how I think it will break down: the smaller of the two document safes are going to have ID's, titles & certificates; stuff that we will be absolutely stuck without. The larger will have the taxes, jewelry, notebook, etc.  Things that will be inconvenient if we didn't have.  

(Oh, expired ID's.  Somewhere it was suggested to keep your expired license so if your current one is lost, at least you have SOMETHING.  It's not a valid form of ID but it's something instead of nothing)

What started as a fairly easy project - one that I thought I'd already handled pretty well - has now grown into A Thing.  A summer project, for grownups.

So, along with the Raising Parents chapters, we have Raising Ourselves.

August

 

The Monkey House

 I fear that I've become addicted to browsing houses on the internet.  To the point that I get daily emails from one of the realty sites.  

In a perfect world, there is a town in the deep, deep south -that you may know from television, the only reason I know it - where we could sell everything and live like KINGS.  We would only have to trade our state with all of the safety nets to the state that is in the lowest rankings for everything. But I could have a pool.

I think I mentioned that as I've been browsing, I've thought "Oh, I've been in that house before" or "I've always wondered what that looked like inside"  I found the tilt-shift version of my own house.  I've seen childhood homes of friends/neighbors.  It's been a ride, for sure.

Today I looked at the email as I always do.  There was a house for sale out by my parents' old house.  Out of curiosity, I clicked through to see which house it was.  

It was the Monkey House.

Again, you shouldn't know what that is.  As a child, there was a house across the lake from my parent's house that had a monkey for a PET.  It had an enclosure on the deck so with binoculars you could sometimes see it in the enclosure. 

I don't know what happened to the monkey and I've no one to ask now.  But it was funny/weird to click on the photo and just know that it was the monkey house.  I kind of want to email the realtor and say "Did you know that there used to be a monkey living at that house?"  But I don't have any details beyond that and imagine getting that call.  It wouldn't come off as crazy At All.

Edith

 TW: child death

Remember when we went to the cemetery on Father's Day and we ended up cleaning a few graves?  Kevin asked me to clean off the one next to his brother because it clearly hadn't been attended in quite a while...

I wanted to look her up but promptly forgot her surname.  Because it was bothering me, I went back to look today.  Then I came home and did some research on ancestry.

Edith Leonora Wolf.  She was only 7 mos. old and it looks like she was a SIDS death. (I will not go into the details from the death certificate)   She had a brother and a sister, one before and one after. Leonora was her mother's middle name.

Odd thing is about 10 years later, my father-in-law's parents lived a few blocks down from this family's house on the same street.

Then I discovered that the baby on the other side of Kevin's brother is a distant cousin; the niece of Kevin's uncle  (married to my father-in-law's sister) Second cousin? I think, if I understood it correctly.  They have a distinctive last name so it caught my eye immediately.  

The plan is when I/we go back up to the cemetery, we will take time to - at the very least - brush and rinse off the markers in his section.  It was originally called Babyland and now is The Angel Garden. As heartbreaking as Babyland is, I think I prefer it.

It looks like most of the markers are older so other children must be in the regular sections of the cemetery.  I feel compelled to take care of those more than any others, for some reason.  Most of the markers look like Edith's.  It's metal and social media has entire pages of symbolism of markers. Lambs usually indicate babies.

  Those pages also have directions of how to properly clean markers.  I think I'm going to stick with brushes and water for now.  I already felt the ocd start to creep in when I spent some time brushing off other markers when I went this time.

Anyway, now we know who she is and who Thomas's neighbors are.  Apt examples of small towns and rural counties.

(I swear I will have happier topics soon)

July

 

Just Put It in the Cart

 A few years ago now, I had a little shopping spree.  Today, because it's raining and I don't feel like going anywhere, I brought out a few of the things that I bought to either do something with or donate.  At the time, about half of the things I bought went immediately into use, the other half was set aside for "maybe someday when it slows down".  Fast forward two years...

This was in in-between time of my mother-in-law passing, relocating my father-in-law, and the slow steady decline that followed.

At the time, after a difficult phone call, Kevin mentioned that I should just take some money and "go shopping".  This isn't as sexist as it sounds.  In our world, "go shopping" could mean books, the farm or hardware store, or the dollar store.  There was a non-specific amount available and now I can't remember why there was money available for this kind of - in my world - extravagance.  Extravagance being defined as spending money on myself beyond the basics.

I think he had just gotten a bonus or I did, something unexpected like that.  It doesn't matter, I don't know why I'm hyper-fixated on that.  Other than to say: in this situation, I am showing my privilege.

After a trip to the facility for reasons that are blurry now, I decided to take his advice and take a moment to just breathe.  I went into the big box store where many of us no longer shop.  (I think this was right at the beginning of all that)  I grabbed a cart, which I never do, then bought a coffee; which is also something I would never do In A Store.  The height of extravagance!

I employed the Jeff Miller's Grandma's Method of Shopping.  No, you're not supposed to know what that is and it won't show up on a google search.   Nearly 40 years ago (sweet baby jesus) when I was married to satan, I also had a roommate.  He taught me how to grocery shop because I was nineteen and knew nothing.  One of the methods was to be like his grandma and go down each aisle.  The reasoning is that you'll find something that you have forgotten or that you'll get an idea to make something. Otherwise you just buy the same ten things over and over.  At the time we were on a capital B budget so overspending wasn't a risk.

Anyway

I browsed every aisle, twice, and every end cap.  If something grabbed my attention, I put it in the cart.  I had decided that at the end, I would review my cart and put stuff back if I wasn't interested anymore. Or if I found something more expensive and I could cull an item(s) or just abandon the car altogether to a cashier and claim an emergency thus leaving with nothing but anxiety.  

First thing I put in the cart: a 64 count box of Crayola Crayons, with the sharpener.  I have zero use for it, none whatsoever.  But I have always wanted one since ever.  (I always got the small box or usually Rose brand crayons, IYKYK, or somehow worse: a discarded box of crayons) 

I noticed there was an art kit, complete with acrylic paint, canvas, brushes, and a small easel for surprisingly little cost.  Am I a painter?  No, only of walls.  Have I ever tried it?  No.  Are there videos on social media that make it look surprisingly easy?  Yes.  Into the cart it went.  It could be a gift if I changed my mind.  (It is one of the things that I'm opening today.)

Then I put into the cart the full set of Sharpies.  Again, just wanted them.  They're still hanging on the side of the fridge.  Kevin has tried to dibs them but even he has held off on taking them.  I think it's poor kid thing, they're too special to use; even though they sell them at the store every day.

Next was more practical: washcloths and hand towels.  Ours were overdue to be replaced.  They came in Fall colors: orange, yellow, and green. I was momentarily puzzled when the cashier commented "What lovely Fall colors..." Because in my mind, green would match the current bathroom, yellow was the color in Kevin's bathroom when we met, and orange is my favorite color.  

Next I chose a drying mat because I had just been using towels and I hate the clutter of a plastic drying rack.  I'd seen them in use at work and thought "that's just too easy"  I bought the only color they had: grey.  Once I knew I liked using them, I ordered pretty ones from etsy.  (click here)

Then I grabbed a simple metal tea kettle.  There are times when I need one and it was like $10.  I could have gotten one much nicer/cooler at second hand but that wasn't the point of this adventure.  I pondered dishes, pots, containers in the housewares but nothing really caught my eye.

I browsed the book aisle.  I rarely pay full price for books so this was a conundrum.  Again though, that was not the point of this trip.  I put three books in my cart, all of them recommended by the internet.  I don't think I've read any of them yet.  I can't remember which horrible person had a book out then, I just remember turning all those books over so you couldn't see them.

Next was the seasonal and clearance section and it was transitioning from summer to fall/holidays.  I didn't get anything, surprisingly. Oh wait, I just glanced at the photo I sent my bff, I got one of the birds.

I browsed the toy aisles, even though our kids are all grown except one. I pondered getting a lego set because those seem soothing to do. But there wasn't one that caught my attention.  Also, it would have been my entire imaginary budget.  Also x2, I hate that everything is commercialized with superheroes and television.  (be a dear and hand me my cane. Tell the kids to get off my lawn!)  I do like the botanical sets they have now and that's on a wish list for the future.

Now I am in the food section so I skipped those aisles but did pick up M&Ms, which was for Kevin. 

I'm not interested in anything in the sportsball section but did get a hand weight and a therapy band.  I use the hand weight while sitting at my desk for long periods of time.  The therapy band is with my other therapy bands, unused in a closet.  The intention was there.

I skipped toiletries and cosmetics entirely.  Those aisles are wasted on me unless there's something specific I need.  This was not the focus of this mission.

I lightly browsed the clothing section - women and mens - but I didn't need anything.  I noticed that the trend was very 1980's and that was kind of fun to think about.  I almost bought a backpack/purse but put it back. I already have two that I don't use.  

Finally, if you're familiar with the store you know I had gone through every section.  I stood in the clothing section and looked through the cart.  There wasn't anything that I felt like I needed to put back, to my surprise.

Again, this is something that I have never done and probably wouldn't do again.  Not because of any reason other than I don't need to.  Let's just call this a self-care exercise for that period of time.

I went through checkout and I wasn't nervous about the total but was anxiously curious.  I just don't spend money like this. It would be fine if I went over the imaginary budget.  I didn't pay conscious attention as I put things in the cart but my guess was under $200.  It was $145, which I remember kind of wincing then self-correcting that it was totally fine.

But there were so many years where doing something like this would be unthinkable, laughable even.  So that's a difficult mindset to break.  Also, there are people who do this regularly without judgement so that's like whatever.

Overall, I had fun and it's probably not something I would do again.  I would recommend doing it if you're going through a challenging time.  The big win of this exercise was for an hour, I didn't think about anything other than what was in front me and whether or not I wanted it.  

Also, it doesn't have to be a big box store. I chose the big box store because it would have a little of everything.  It can be a second hand store or the dollar store, or a TJ Max or book, antique, hardware or garden store. Somewhere you feel comfortable in, it's not necessarily about the store or the shopping. It was creating a moment to just be.

Work With Me

 My mornings are usually pretty consistent; mostly because of Kevin. If left to my own devices then it's a Spin the Wheel of Chaos.

The day starts when his alarm goes off at 5:00 am.  I send him off to work because I am the good 1950's housewife.  

At 5:20 I am making myself coffee and getting something to eat.  This varies from a muffin to nothing, depending on the day.  By the way, my keurig is stuck in descaling mode for months now.  Kevin fixed it by putting tape over the flashing "decsaling" button.

By 5:30 I am at my desk working. Let me say right here: this would NEVER happen if I had to work in an actual office. NEVER.   This is only possible because I'm alone, in my pajamas, with chicken head, and no verbal ability requirement.

My work is usually pretty consistent.  There's usually emails with requests, documents that need reviewed and entered, and some mindless data entry.  Sometimes it's A LOT and sometimes it just a normal amount.  Right now, it's super slow because it's later in the school year.  In about a month, everything will ramp up again as we get into Kindergarten readiness and closing out the school year.

You know those - what I call parallel play - people on social media that go live and you work along with them?  It's usually a desk scene with someone working and a timer and music playing.  It's kind of soothing and does work when I'm in that mindset of Not Being Able to Concentrate.  Unless they have a clickity clackity keyboard, then I'm out. It's too much sensory input and I realized as I'm writing this: trauma from learning how to type in high school.  (I nearly flunked two classes in high school, typing and Trig.)   

Timers don't always work for my alphabet brain; if I'm concentrating I need to keep working while my brain is cooperating.   My smart watch has a timer that tells me I've been sitting too long.  Most of the time I ignore it or do a few stretches so it thinks I've moved.

There are a few tools that I use to focus.  Right now I have a mix of 80's and 90's music playing just on the regular speakers.  If it's something that requires absolute concentration then I use my headphones.  If it's mindless data entry, I'll play Grey's Anatomy in the background.  Every once in a while it will just be silent but that's usually when I'm so tired/overwhelmed that I can't take any more sensory input. See: this entire school year.

I've also gone onto a specific social media page and scrolled while working.  I'm super into Museums on social media right now, for instance.  I can mostly listen and occasionally glance at the screen for context.

For Christmas, Kevin gave me a cup warmer.  I put it on my list thinking it was frivolous and would I even use it.  I SO USE IT.  It's so nice to just have a warm cup at any point. (especially for tea)  I highly recommend it.  I have an orange colored Yeti but it keeps it too hot and I'm suddenly Goldilocks.

I've mentioned before that I have three monitors and I'm continually surprised at how helpful this is.  Database on one screen, spreadsheet on another, then email/forms/Grey's Anatomy on the other. I honestly can't think of a single thing that has improved my work more than adding a monitor.  And yes, I've caught myself thinking "another monitor could be useful right now"  #Ihaveissues

Anyway, I work for about three hours in one sitting.  It's so early that I'm working before my brain is fully booted up and realizing what is happening and can stage a rebellion.  After three hours of work, the rest of my coworkers are starting their day.  It's a good configuration because I can have things addressed well before they've even gotten to the office.

Then I finally shower and officially become a human.  I won't say how many years it took for me to realize that time counts as my "lunch" break.  Then if work is still busy, I'll sit down for a while more.  If it's not, I'll do chores and tasks around the house while keeping an eye on my work.

Lucy insists on walkies about 11:30 and is horrified if I'm still working at noon.  So everyone knows I'm unavailable from 11-ish to 1-ish.  My day is usually mostly done by then but not always.  And we don't always go walkies and that is the worst day ever for Lucy.

Because I work part time and from home, I consider myself "on call" for the rest of the day. Staff are welcome to text - or call, sigh, if they must. (Don't Teams me, it's never open and I hate it) So during the afternoon, I check my email and address anything that comes up.  There are days where I win and nothing is happening (like today, for instance) and there are days where work wins and I'm sitting here all day.

Like the other day I was having a technical difficulty with one of the databases I use.  I got the dreaded "Can you jump on Teams real quick?"  SIGH.  I will just deal with the issue, please just don't.  But I did.  Now, this is where I say that I have a camera and have had said camera since the beginning of the school year.  Have I installed it?  Nope. But I did take it out of the box.  (I did zoom on my own laptop, back in the pandemic days)

So, I have audio but no camera.  This actually works for me.  I have to share my screen and I hear "Ah!!! WHY is your cursor SO BIG!"  (which sounds a little p*rny, lol)  "Because I am blind" I reply and that ended that conversation awkwardly.  

(Also, did you know that is an option?  Microsoft button/Settings/Accessibility/Mouse Pointer.  You can change size, color, blinking or static, shadow.  It's kind of fun.  Anyway, mine is huge and purple. It's incredibly help with three screens)

We fixed the issue and then I emailed IT to install my camera.  I had 90s-2000s music playing and left so IT could log into my computer.  Thought nothing about it.  When I returned, I see that IT had just finished and I can hear "Hi! My Name is, what? My Name is, who? My Name is chka-chka, Slim Shady."  Sooooo professional of me.  (IT was fine, btw)

Now I have a camera and I left it attached to my monitor for one entire day.  Then the GEN X in my went NOPE and it now resides on my cpu until I need it.  But I have it.

Social Media reminded me that the pandemic was six years ago.  It is what started this working from home thing. At first I thought I would hate it and I had genuine worry about being successful doing it.  It took some adjustments and still requires them from time to time. Now I'm feral and only attend meetings monthly and even that feels like A LOT.  

And now in the time it's taken me to finish this, I've lost the plot.  I think it was about favorite accommodations when you work from home.  Let's go with that.  Oh, wait, no, I started a different post and forgot. This is the thing:

So if I were to ever be a creator with a Work With Me page, it would feature constant music changing, Lucy either barking or laying down and sighing heavily, me popping up and down because "Oh, the laundry"  "Is that the Shamazon delivery?"  "I'm hungry/thirsty/snacky" with light touch typing and a silent mouse, because I'm not a psychopath.   Also, lots of frowning and heavy sighing at my monitors.  And probably cursey muttering.

All Moved In

 I am not going to go on my whiny rant about how I dislike Father's Day specifically this year (and Mother's Day, every year)  Instead I'm going to tell you about how we "celebrated" that particular day.

The parents gravestone was installed the week after the memorial.  The cemetery had sent me a photo so I knew what it looked like now that it was installed.  Unfortunately, it was a little dirty and that annoyed me.  But, I decided that they took it prior to cleaning it. They did not, but more about that in a minute.

Kevin wanted to go see the marker and his brother's marker that we had installed after his mom died; while we were on vacation. Unfortunately, the parents wasn't ready yet.  Instead, we planned on "celebrating" Father's Day by going to the cemetery.

I have been there, three times.  I have a map.  A thing to know about me: I really struggle with maps.  My brain cannot translate the information, unfortunately.  So, it turned into a little bit of a effed-up treasure hunt.  Kevin holding the map the correct orientation and me using the coordinates the cemetery gives you:  Block 4/Section 11/Lot 5

I missed telling Kevin to turn when we entered the cemetery so we went to Baby Thomas marker first.  I had visited it when I was there dropping off the parents and had spent a few minutes cleaning it.  It had become overgrown a little though so I had made a plan. I brought water, clippers, rags, and simple green.  

We parked in the middle, so it was an equal walk to Baby Thomas and to where I thought the parents were.  I was wrong so one of us had to walk back to the car to get the cleaning kit. Kevin was uncharacteristically fussy about this until I realized that he needed A Moment.  I walked back to the car, got the cleaning kit, then slow walked back to the marker.  

By the time I returned, he had dusted off the marker and sent a photo to his brother.  Then we both sat on the ground to share a moment before starting to clip the grass away from his marker and wash it.  While Kevin was working on that, I got distracted looking at the other markers from where I was standing.  After he was finished, Kevin handed me a rag and spray bottle and asked "Can you just clean hers real quick?"  Next to Baby Thomas was Edith.  Edith was also born in 1959 and it was clear no one had come to visit her for quite a while.  I knelt down and cleaned the marker then clipped away the grass.  I told her that I'm going to go onto ancestry and find her.  (then I've forgotten her last name so next time I go, I'm looking her up before I leave the cemetery)

Meanwhile, Kevin's now brushing off other sites and telling me that next time we'll clean some of the graves.  I explained that there are people on social media who do just that and I'll look up what to use.  I made the joke that we were going to be here all day and he refocused on finding the parents again.

Once I found them, I felt ridiculous, it was so easy to find them.  They're between two trees, one older and one younger.  There's a little "scatter garden" in front of them (scattering what, I am unsure. It was small so perhaps pets?)

The marker was still dirty but it became apparent why.  They had just...dug...in the dirt so there was dirt surrounding the marker.  But we cleaned it the best we could, took a photo and again, I gave Kevin a moment to talk to his parents.   

He said he thought he was prepared but once he saw it in person, reality hit.  I wondered that a person can't  predict how they're going to feel; only conceptualize.  I felt a little better knowing that they're together again, near their family & child, and that it was the final step.  But...that being said...I can't think too hard about it either.

My mother-in-law's parents are right next door to them so we took a few minutes to clean their marker as well.  By the time we finished, Kevin was ready to be done so we left.  We didn't visit his other grandparents graves but we'll do that next time. Also his ancestral family is buried in that cemetery, we  have to find them too.  (great grandparents, etc)

Now he was thinking that we would just do that on every Father's Day and I mentioned Mother's Day. But they're so close in time so perhaps on their birthdays (November & April) instead.  Or, that we can go whenever he wanted, there's no rule.

As we drove home, I mentioned that I have no idea where either of MY parents are.  I'm assuming that they're at their house - where my brother now lives, don't get me started - but I'm not sure.  It would be like them to scatter ashes and not let me know.  (that's a whole other story. Ooof, that will be another day)  

But my point being: it's actually nice to have a space to go "visit".  

Kevin mentioned posting on social media so the cousins could see.  He mentioned an aside to my family "see? this is how you honor your parents" 

I thought about it a minute and instead tried for a light take on the situation:  "We visited the parents at their new place and did a little cleaning this morning. They're all moved in and near their families now."

Happy Summer

 

Book Square

 I've been meaning to do an update on my 2026 bingo card but you know, things have been happening.

One of the squares are "Read one book a month" which would have been a breeze a few years ago.  Now, it takes more of an effort.

In April, maybe, I read and enjoyed Mind Games, it was a good blend of storytelling, feel good and tiny bit scary drama. It took a couple of weeks, not bad considering.  But I felt like I had made progress on filling that bingo square, even if it was a late start.

The next book, not so much.  After at least a month, I finally finished reading The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue.  It's been on the to-be-read shelf for a very long time.  I remember seeing it recommended on the social media then I read the description and found myself interested so I ordered it.

I was so disappointed in the first third of the book. At first I wondered if it was me, with everything going on that maybe my attention span just wasn't ready for the book/reading in general.  But it wasn't...it just beat the plot point into the ground, dug it back up, and kept hammering.

I mean, we get it.  The life she was living was difficult.  WE GET IT.  (trying not to do spoilers, even though it's an "older" book now)  I was hoping more for the historical detail and events instead of bad things that can happen during historical events.

Then mid-way, it got interesting with the addition of other characters then I enjoyed it.  The ending was kind of satisfying; although it was clearly written in a way that a sequel could be written.  Was it the best writing ever? No.  Did it remind me of the movie The Age of Adeline?  Absolutely.  #tinyspoiler

I keep a lot of my books because I know someday I'll want to reread them or I'll be housebound or on a fixed income and won't have access to new books.  Also, they're a comfort item for me.  However, this one went directly into the closet where I store things going to be donated.

So, then while trying to choose my next read from the TBR pile,  my alphabet brain said "Oh, look, you have another book by that author!"  I don't see a single thing that can wrong!

Now, with this one (Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil)   I remember ordering it but I couldn't remember what the plot was.  Instead of reading the description, I just started reading.   In this case, the first third was good.  Multiple characters and timelines (even though naming a Latina character Maria felt lazy) it held my interest.

Until...

Until mther-effing vampires.  I admit, this is not my usual genre but I was going to give it a try.  I liked the Discovery of Witches on netflix enough that I want to try the books. I'm saying that I enjoy some fantasy, but it's not my go-to.  

With this book,  the second third of the book was like the first third of Addie LaRue.  Just repetitive, predictable, ugh.  Plus violence. Finally, I skipped ahead to the last few pages and finished reading. It was easy enough to pick up the gist of what I had skipped and was left feeling meh.

While writing this post, I searched about the Addie LaRue book and reddit had the perfect review (click here) Then I did the same for Bury Our Bones and SAME.  So, it's an author thing, clearly.  Also: where are the editors for this writer?

It now joins the other book, waiting to get gifted to someone else.  There is a little library not far from here that I was going to drop it off but it seems like the people who made the library have moved away.  There hasn't been good books and it's looking worn down and that makes me sad.

I accidentally found another little library nearer my house, on a road I don't usually take during a detour.  I stopped there today to see what it was like and it had good books in there.  So...do I drop these disliked books in the old little library or the new?  The old one occasionally has religious texts and books so I'm tempted to leave them there just to be, well, me.  

Or maybe I will donate to the new-to-me library with a little note of...apology?  warning?  regret?  Something like "I bought this because social media said it was good. *sad clown music*"

Now I'm reading Lessons in Chemistry which has caught my attention from page one.  This was also a social media recommendation and it had been long enough since purchase that, again, I had zero idea what it was about.  So far, it's enjoyable. It reminds me a little of Sheldon Cooper and Amy Farrah Fowler on The Big Bang Theory.  (one of my all-time favorite shows)  In a good way though.

So, that's progress I guess.  Here's hoping for success the rest of the year.

Setting It All on Fire

 The nursing director at the facility is NO LONGER WORKING THERE.  The absolute relief I feel is immense!!!  Now, let me tell you how I learned that.

But first, also, I have to mention that the social worker from the facility sent Kevin a friend request on the social media and NOT ME.  AND that I had messaged her with details of the memorial and NO ANSWER. BUT that she did answer Kevin's text that she was attending the memorial.  AND THEN she no-showed, no-called.   Kevin was the main point of contact but she did have a pseudo-relationship with me as well. I was the one who suggested to find us on social media!  So, that's....odd. Perhaps, did she catch feelings?

Okay, resume:

What had happened was:

Two weeks ago I made a report to DSHS against the facility.  First I called and just asked questions.  I was pretty sure it was going to get screened out so I wanted to know if I was wasting my time even trying.  I wasn't, I learned, but they were going to phone me back to do an intake then didn't. 

So I just went online and made a report that was a more succinct version of the letter we provided to the Ombudswomen.  They called about an hour later to verify my information and let me fill in the blanks.  They said that they'll review it then let me know via mail.  I told the first person that I imagined it will get screened out but I felt compelled to make a report all the same and they were encouraging.  Like it says in the Mandating Reporting training: you don't know how many prior reports there have been and that your report could suddenly tip the scale into action.  I also said to the second person that "we just don't want anyone else to have that experience with their mom or dad AND that I feel badly for the people who don't have people advocate for them"

Also, I believe the facility will be notified that a report was lodged and that's delicious.

Next was I was going to send a formal letter to the corporate office of the facility, of which I was going to cc the executive director of the facility.  But I needed a mailing address.  I did a search and discovered there is a Regional Office in the big city down south.

I phoned them to ask for guidance about sending a letter and spoke for almost an hour to a lovely lady named Bobbi.  She notified me that Director of Nursing no longer works there!!!  I told her that I was so relieved to hear that and just that change will hopefully prevent some of the problems we experienced from happening again.  She asked if I still wanted to file a grievance and I said YES.  So I tried to summarize it but there's So Much and we've met me when I get on a roll.  

Again, I was able to mention that I felt like just the removal of the Nursing Director will be an improvement.  HOWEVER, we felt strongly that the executive director needs additional training and gave a few examples (allowing d.o.n. to be unprofessional, saying she relies on d.o.n. because she doesn't know this population that she serves, wishes SHE had power of attorney for her parents, etc.)  I praised the nurses who cared for him and acknowledged that they were hindered by a broken system.

I also got a little dig in about the attempted moving in of a third person into his original room. I stated that I understand budgets and bottoms lines, however "He's a HOSPICE patient, let's add another person to a difficult situation!  And have we learned NOTHING from the pandemic?"

At the end, she was appalled and to her credit, genuinely upset that we had that experience. Her reaction felt sincere and I hope it wasn't just fake courtesy.  She stated that at first, she was just going to put it through the grievance system but by the end she said she's taking it directly to the Regional Manager who will start an investigation.  Whew!  AND that my "testimony"  will be shared with the Executive Director of the facility.    She asked that I email her the grievance letter (three PAGES) so it could be added to the documentation.  HELL YES.    She said that there will be a follow-up for me, so here's hoping.

I sent that right away then texted the Hospice Nurse that I had filed a report with DSHS and a complaint with the Regional Office.  I got heart emoji's from the Hospice Nurse in response.  I'm certain she's prevented from specifically commenting but I wanted her to know that I kept my promise.

Oh, AND...I mentioned to Bobbi that I had called to make a report to DSHS-APS and she was HAPPY that I did that.  I thought she would be upset or whatever but she was actually encouraging.  I mentioned that I was a Mandated Reporter and explained that this should have happened sooner but you know, all the dying and stuff slowed the process.

Kevin said after his dad passed that he wasn't sure about doing all of this and I was a little stunned. I mean..what?  I said that we don't want any of the other families to have this experience and he agreed. He doesn't want the nurses and social worker (yes, I singsonged that name as I typed) to have unintended consequences. So, *whispering*  I'm just going to tell him about the report to the Regional Office because he'll enjoy hearing that Director of Nursing is no longer there. I mean, I get that he just wants to move on but seriously, we don't want this situation to continue.

Then at the party, we visited with one of the cousins who is a Director of Nursing for a major metropolitan hospital.  Kevin had called her for guidance in the past so we were thanking her for helping us through the whole thing.  I told her that it all came down to the facility had not put the Hospice Care Plan into place at all.  She said that she had suspected as much but professionally could not say that at the time.  

By this time, Kevin had wandered away and I leaned into the cousin, conspiratorially, and said "I made a report to the DSHS-APS AND to the regional office of the facility."  Her eyes got big and she said "Good job" but I also think she might be a little scared of me now.  I shared that I'm a Mandated Reporter so when all was said and done, I was required to.

I have USPS informed delivery and I saw that the response from the state was supposed to be delivered on Monday.  It was not.  Not on Tuesday or Wednesday, Thursday or Friday.  I reported it lost via the USPS website but we all know that is going nowhere.  

Instead, I phoned them to report that the letter had never arrived.  I mentioned that because of the circumstances (his passing), I imagine that it will be screened out but at least it's on record.  They were emphatic that with this branch of DSHS, they Do NOT screen reports out; all reports are followed through. (That's a relief and also frustrating because for the other end of the age spectrum, they do screen out.) Also, that the missing letter just notifies me of a case number and caseworker assigned.  It gave me the opportunity to provide the update that the d.o.n. was no longer at the facility and that a grievance had been filed with the facility regional office and that we still wanted to follow through with a report.

Now, we wait for the follow-up on all of that.

  And the facility executive director  will absolutely know that I'm working in the background airing all her deficiencies.  I said I was going to set things on fire when this was done and here we go.  

$700,000 - A Raising Parents Saga

 You guys. Seriously.  You guys.  My gawd.  You thought we were done.

So, I just got off the phone with a lawyer from the father-in-law's car insurance company.  Yes, lawyer and yes, insurance company.

Cast your mind back to two years ago, just short of one month of two years ago but let's say: TWO YEARS AGO.

When my father-in-law had a rear-ender car accident that resulted in his van being totaled.  Shortly after that, he landed in the facility for the remainder of his life.  Remember that?

*exasperated sigh*

The driver he hit is suing his insurance for nearly a quarter of a million dollars.

I mean...

I listened to the lawyer explain that he was just assigned the case and that the file is thick and he hasn't had time to glean much information other than the basic facts.  He was calling me, as the Power of Attorney and point-of-contact to let me know that proceedings have begun to sue and to verify information.

I had to count to ten in my head before I replied, seriously.  "Well, I have to let you know that he's dead. He died a month ago."  My tone was calm but sniper calm.

He paused, gave the obligatory condolences, and says basically "This changes things but the PROCESS will continue regardless."  He explains that they will go after the estate once the insurance pays out what the coverage states the limit is. ($100,000 btw)

I scoffed and said "Well, not only is he dead, he is broke.  We had to spend every penny and sell everything he had to get him onto Medicaid and into a facility.  Good.Luck.With.That.  He is literally 'dead broke'."

He mentioned something about allegations so I asked him to elaborate.  The driver is claiming that they have had $30,000+ worth of medical bills and is looking at $50,000 in additional medical bills for concussion, shoulder, and anguish plus loss of income.  He was subtly eye-rolling the list as he was telling me.

I explained that was reported to me as: it was a simple accident. They were driving a luxury full-size SUV and that it seems like my dad's 15 year old minivan took more damage than they did.  Also, that the insurance agent was on the scene afterward and reported that the other driver was hysterical to the point the first responders put them in an ambulance because they couldn't communicate with them.  Then I encouraged the lawyer to please reach out to the insurance agent for details because again: my dad is dead.

So, if you did the math above, that is not $700,000 worth of medical bills.  The insurance actually covers her medical bills and stated future medical bill estimate,  AS SHOULD THIER OWN GDAMN INSURANCE.  They are asking for $600,000 damages and all that.

Sigh.

The lawyer mentioned, a little derisively, that they had hired one of those As Seen On TV law firms and this is what they do; ask for much more than what is morally and ethically owed.  He mentioned it, and of course I searched for them.  It is definitely the bus-stop law firm.

Anyway, the lawyer mentions again that the insurance will cover up to $100,000 and anything over than that, the estate will have to pay.  I laughed and asked "With what?"  He said that was the thing, it should end there because the estate has no assets.  But they can still try to bill the estate.  TO WHICH, I said "Then I will pay them with monopoly money."

The lawyer paused, then laughed, and said "I will send you a stamp."

So, that just happened.  There's nothing I/we can do but wait for the lawyers to fight it out and reach an agreement. 

This is never going to end.

Finally, June

Head Tilt

 (my brain or autocorrect typed "held tilt" instead of Head Tilt.  Hopefully this makes sense now.

Yesterday I had a work meeting, well two actually.  More on that in a minute.

This is my first real peopling experience since Dad died and I didn't think about it at all beforehand.

As I'm driving to the college, where I've been to and been past thousands of times, I felt it start. The mthr effing grief.  I drove past where my grandfather's house used to be and is now a strip mall of offices.  I made a left instead of a right to go to the facility, as I've been doing the past two years.  I'm looking at the mountain that I looked at every single day of my life until age nineteen.  I attended this college for a short time when I was eighteen.

So, I'm having big feelings before I even get out of my car.  I met an advocate from work as I walked toward the building so that distracted me from the big feelings for a minute.

We went into the conference room and I sat next to my job partner and next to a colleague whom I've recently gotten to know a little better because of *all of this*  Job partner knows to just act normal, we're wired very similarly.  Colleague is chill as well.

Male Colleague enters the room and sees me, and looks visibly surprised at my presence.  He does the head-tilt, soft "How are you doing?" and to my surprise, I got teary.  Brushed it off with "Doing okay, just getting through it"  He continues with sympathy/empathy and I have to focus on breathing.  Don't get me wrong, it's appreciated and he was wholly appropriate and kind.

Then others enter and it breaks the moment.  Colleague who is chill quietly says "I kept the seat next to me open so you could sit here.  That way you're blocked from people and safe, if you want."  It was so thoughtful and appreciated and something that I didn't even consider when I rsvp'd to this meeting.

Next up is the Director and she simply said it was nice to see me and hoped I was doing well.  Caring yet objective.

We get through the meeting and lunch is provided.  The Mental Health Consultant is there as well and sure enough was in line next to me while we're getting lunch.  Head-tilt #2 "How are you doing?"  I said that I was "Doing okay, just getting through it.  Hey, I like your haircut and YES, that is a deflection."

Because I'm not crying in this stupid meeting.  Again, heart was in the right place and doing her actual job by checking in.  But she doesn't know me well and sigh.

So, we are getting lunch and chatting when it's announced that the Advocate meeting was after lunch.  Normally I attend those so I look at my job partner like "What?"  She said "You don't need to attend, you can bail.  We weren't going to ask you this time."  Omg, stop being nice, it's killing me.

I stayed through the relevant part of the meeting and after I finished my update, I mentioned "Oh, by the way, even though I've had a lot of time off due to illness and death, I will be out for the next week on vacation."  Positive comments all around and someone mentioned "You never take time off..."  I replied that "It feels weird taking vacation when I work from HOME" which garnered a round of "That's silly! Take vacation!" etc.  Which then also was ended with job partner stating "You've been through A LOT this year, take your time, dammit."

Kindness mixed with sass, it was appreciated.

So, that was super fun and unexpected.  That's the way of grief, it likes to surprise you like that.

For reference: Sympathetic Head Tilt link

Unpublished Draft

Started 4/30/2014

What had happened was: Nephew has Crohn's Disease and spent four (?) months in the hospital, three of which were at University of Washington Medical Center.  He went septic at the local hospital and was med-flighted to Seattle.

This is a year plus two weeks since I'd broken my foot off of my leg at work. (freak accident) and spent two days in the hospital and 60 days bedrest and six month recovery.  Then my s-i-l was in a terrible accident on the freeway at the tail end of the above two incidents. (hurt but not Hurt Hurt)

And I think this was right when I started to realize that I shouldn't drive at night anymore.

We went racing for the first time this year.  This is the latest start that we have gotten, ever. Not even with me all broken up last year.

It didn't go as well as we'd hoped, after spending the off season upgrading but it's not like there was anything bad happening, we just had a glitch. We just had to concentrate on personal best and remind ourselves that we're still pretty cool, just not as cool as we had hoped.

The Nephew was able to come with us so that was another step toward normal.  He still weighs in the 150 pound area so watching friends that hadn't seen him yet was heart breaking.  As much as we try to explain (warn) people, a person just can't imagine it.

We got to hang out with our friends and that in and of itself was healing.  We still see them in the off-season but being able to spend three days with them was wonderful.

I was able to ride up with Kevin on Friday so we got our truly only alone time in a long while.  Yes, we live in house together but all it takes is a phone ring, puppy bark, the sound of feet in the gravel or the shop door opening and all is interrupted.

I'm still on strike over camping at the racetrack because I'm 44 years old and that seems ridiculous. (the camping and the 44 years old thing, both equally ridiculous) So, I came home alone one night and both of us one night.  I like to drive so the trip back and forth is a treat for me. Crossing the border doesn't bother me at all.  I just have a book in case I ever get stuck in a back-up.  Some of the border guards say "Welcome Home" when we come back and it's strangely very nice to hear.

P.S.

I'm now 57 yrs. old.  We're not racing competitively anymore and everything has changed (obvs).  But: I can drive at night again and everyone is healed.

There's Nothing - Raising Parents Prologue

 Okay, so it's been two weeks.  It has had it's moments for sure and like everyone says: it's usually not the big things that get overwhelming.

Today I approved the headstone, yesterday I got the phone call that they had been interred.  Today I got notification that Social Security is taking back it's money - as they should.  I returned his pacemaker via fedex, something I wouldn't have thought of until I opened the box I brought home to make sure I didn't forget anything.  His phone has completely disappeared from our bill, as if it never existed. I have to think that the very kind woman I spoke with months ago at the carrier just clicked a button to make that happen.

His doctor sent a condolence card.  The cardiologist sent a note via his MyChart, which went dark before I could read it.  The ombudswomen sent condolences via email.  The advocate texted us a few times.  And...nothing from the facility.  Shocking.

The "party" has been scheduled and announced.  It's on 6/7 and if you have school age children, you just groaned.  But it made me laugh in the moment.  We don't know if everyone is going to show or just a few.  The cousins all live elsewhere now and there are no aunts or uncles who can attend. (dead, in a facility, or too far to drive)  We're at that milestone of our lives now.

I learned that listening to Luke Combs was not my best idea.  He has two songs that are dead dad songs so that was super fun for me while I'm assembling a patio coffee table on the kitchen floor wishing my father-in-law was next door to help me.

I returned to work early, as did Kevin.  We both just needed normalcy.  We needed a schedule and predictability.  Then my work, which is usually not sentimental, sent a signed card and today I received a care package from the wellness group.  I'm not crying, you're crying.

So, the point of that recap is the busyness is kind of a gift when a death happens. It gives you things to do and plan and think about other than the Bad Thing That Happened.  But now, it's mostly all done.  What's left is ceremonial, if you will.  After that...there's nothing.

We're orphans.  One usually thinks of Annie or Oliver Twist when you hear orphans. Or of children, but feeling orphaned as an adult is a particular kind of sad. It's just us now. Even though they were dependent on us for the past four years, there was a comfort of having parents.  And now there's nothing.

It's Over - A Raising Parents Update

 Okay, hi hello.

So, for everyone who has been reading along, one would think that we would be "Ohhh, finally..." when my father-in-law finally passed.  And you would be right.  Except...

When Kevin got the call from Hospice, he was running equipment.  He said he listened and when they said the words, he sat back and exclaimed "WHAT!?!" in surprise.

Because what had happened was: we were expecting it.  The nurse at the facility had said it was starting to happen.  The Hospice nurse was more tentative but agreed, because He Had Tricked Us Before. So we were aware.

Yet when you hear the words, it's disconcerting.  There's a tiny bit of relief, there's loss. But it's still a shock.  Then if you're wired like Kevin and I, there's "What's next?"

The previous week his dad had been steadily declining and we were wondering how he could possibly go on much longer.  Yet, he was.  We saw him on Sunday and knew it was happening.  He had entered into the Terminal Agitation phase, which gives a two-week window.  It's also said that it passes into a peaceful, coma-like state.  Yeah, no. He was angry up until the day before.  Like Angry angry.  Swatting/swinging at staff, kicking, angry.

We chose not to sit vigil.  Because of his agitated state - and the last year of him being angry at us - we felt it was better for all involved if we stayed away to give everyone a chance for as much peace as possible. (He demanded that Kevin take him home in one of their last conversations. Kevin lied and said he had to go back to work and couldn't)    Hospice and the facility agreed it was okay for us to skip this part.  Also and more importantly, we feel like he would have hated that, us sitting vigil.  He would have hated the past two years of his life, actually.

The social worker who loved him sat with him and walked him through to the next life.  We could not have asked for a better person for him to be with.  For as crappy as our experience was with the facility, she is amazing.

Everything was pre-arranged so Hospice just had to make a call to come get him.  The funeral home called us for a signature and most everything was finished.  (Tip fifty-eleven: if you're able, do pre-arrangements for your death.  We're going to make that a goal next year.  At the very least, write down all your wishes)

I spent yesterday in the car. Crying a little bit in the car.  I went to the facility to pick up his stuff and sign a form.  While waiting, I saw both the Executive Director and the Director of Nursing. I said a pleasant hello to the Executive Director and used her first name.  She said a friendly hello but clearly had ZERO IDEA who I was.  I didn't want her condolences but I expected them.  The Nursing Director did not acknowledge my presence until the third time she walked past me yet still didn't indicate she knew me.  Upon her retreat, I stuck my tongue out at her back.  To my pleasure, someone on staff saw me and stifled a giggle.

I met the Social Worker and we chatted as we walked the ridiculously long hallway to her office. I dropped off a big bag of mixed Dove Chocolates at the nurses desk with a thank you card and that distracted me from looking into my father-in-law's room.  (I'm certain it was already filled, as it should be)  

We went through his boxes and I took one small box. We donated his clothing and bedding to the facility.  Someone else can enjoy his sportsball shirts and have cozy flannel sheets.  There was a whopping $75 cash left from his account and she gave it to me.  I slid it back to her and said "Kevin says you more than earned this, buy yourself something pretty.  Or go to dinner.  Or go to the dollar store"  

And that's when the tears started.  She broke first then that broke me.  We hugged it out and I left.  But not before seeing one of his nurses as I went down the hallway.  I stopped and said who I was and her face fell.  She rubbed my shoulder and expressed condolences and now everyone's crying again.  

Next stop was the funeral home.  I was having a little deja vu because I was just there three years ago, almost to the date.  This funeral home is like something out of a Halloween Hallmark movie.  It's perfectly nice but it leans hard into the funeral home aesthetic.  

I signed more forms and picked him up. I chose a nice but plain wooden box, kind of like a manly jewelry box.  I mentioned that it was heavier than I expected.  She asked me if I needed help out to the car and I declined.  She helped with the door and asked again.  "What's the worst thing that could happen?" I asked, laughing "I would drop him?"

Dear readers, she was horrified.  HORRIFIED.  Which, because I'm wired different, made me laugh.

Next, I buckled him into the backseat of my car.  Mom was already buckled in and we were ready to go.  This funeral home is on the south side of the county and I was traveling to the north side of the next county north.  I had already bought a coffee and a car wash (which I'm sure Mom hated the car wash)  I knew in real she would like to take the scenic route there but she was stuck with the freeway and that's okay.

The cemetery is so far away and I always, always think that I took the wrong turn. But it's just far away.  And it's so lovely.  It's huge and pretty and quiet.  The funeral home portion isn't as staid as the other one and that's nice.  

Even though they were expecting me, she seemed surprised when I said that I was there to drop my parents off.  I know, I know, I Know, but humor is a defense mechanism.  First I brought in my f-i-l then had to go back out to the car to get my m-i-l.  I set her on the counter and the woman commented how beautiful her urn was.  So, of course, I told her the story about the person being hesitant to sell it to us and how it was on clearance, etc.  She looked at me and said "Seriously, this is one of the most beautiful ones I've ever seen."  So, that was good.

I signed more paperwork and it...was all done.  After three really hard years, it was all done.  Walking out to the car, it hit me: there's nothing to worry about, there's nothing to fix, there's nothing to think about.  For the first time in three years. Honestly, that was almost as hard as the loss of the people.

So, not one to dwell but also one to fuss a scab, I went and found their stillborn son's grave.  We had purchased a marker for him after Mom passed but I hadn't seen it installed.  It took me a minute because they had mown the grass but not cleared the clippings.  It needed cleaning so I went to the car and got water and a towel then  I talked to him for a minute while I cleaned. I will take clippers and a better cleaner when we return to see the parents headstone.

Once I got home, I left the box of Dad's stuff on the counter.  But the clutter bothered me so I went through it. (also, I didn't want Kevin to have to deal with it)  There was nothing super surprising or special.  His notepad of blood pressure readings and phone numbers (I didn't program his phone with all the numbers because he was being a butthead at the time)  His blood pressure cuff, his hearing aides - of which I've already lost one, and his watch.  All of the life he had (almost 88 years) and that was all the physical belongings left.  There's some realism, right there.

I had to call the pacemaker monitoring company to return his monitor.  I notified his doctors. I have to go mail notices to the credit bureaus and drop off the death certificate at the bank today.  Then I'm done with the paperwork and legal stuff.

The memorial will be here, at the siblings house, in a few weeks.  It will be the same as Mom's, unstructured with too much food.  The family is smaller now so we are not sure what to expect.  Until then, I will work on another photo album and the memorial card but that will be "easy", I have all the stuff I need from last time.

Now Kevin is back to work and I decided to go back tomorrow.  I had scheduled the week off but now I feel like I need normal and a schedule.  Not that I have any idea what normal is, or what it will look like now.

Married 67.5 years and lived well into their 80's
We should all be so lucky.