It Could Be Worse, I Guess

 Okay, so quick poll: How many times have you cried this week? 

Not the question you were expecting probably.

This week was supposed to be our Get Back to Normal week.  Instead, I was in the dark twisty place on Monday, recovered on Tuesday, then Wednesday happened. And Thursday.  I am not an emotional person.  I'm most likely to be described as even-keeled.  This whole feelings thing is a no from me, dawg.

The repair of the parents house continues.  It's been five months...probably more...and it's still not finished. The amount of frustration is increasing on the daily.

The contractors were here on Tuesday to finish the house.  Tuesday evening, they discovered another water leak.  Luckily, it was under the house and caused no damage to the house. So the water is off until it is sold.

The problem being is the cleaners were scheduled to be there and...no water.  They rescheduled and we stretched two garden hoses from each house so they could work.  It took them all day to get the house cleaned. And really, I could go back through and do some detail work. But that's not my point.

The cleaners mentioned that there was still stuff in the medicine cabinet.  In all the turmoil, I missed that there was a cabinet behind the bathroom mirror.  Then she mentioned that the drawers in the bedroom still had clothes in them.  I had just checked the night before so now I'm surprised and frustrated and sad.  Literally thought "Would you just stop messing with me, mom?"

So, they left and I grabbed a box to gather up everything.  I had just mentioned to Kevin that each time I leave that house I think to myself "This will be the last time..." and he was surprised at my naivety.  It's just that every time we think we're done, there is something that makes us go back.

Anyway, I went into the house and thought this will be quick, no worries.  Well, worries. 

The people who did the initial demo thought it was a good idea to put the refrigerator in front of glass cabinets where there were photos and glassware VISIBLE because GLASS CABINET.  So that was first, emptying out that after waiting five months to do so.  There wasn't anything amazing in there, really.  Just glassware and photos of family members.  I again got to play the "Valuable or Second Hand?" game, followed by the "Who Wants This?" lightning round.

Also, there were a few random items on the counter that I swept into the box and about ten boxes of playing cards that were on the window sill.  Then I opened the medicine cabinet, just to get metaphorically punched in the nose. There are fewer more personal things than a medicine cabinet.  More pill bottles with the m-i-l's name, a jewelry box of earrings, a lotion that she used.  It was like starting all over with closing the house.  I persevered though and put it all in the box.

Finally there was the bedroom.  The drawers are ground level so I just sat on the ground.  Two drawers had t-shirts of hers tucked at the very back.  I scooped them out and left. Of course the shirts smell like her.  A scent that hasn't been around for months, for well before she actually passed.  I kept two and put them in a ziploc bag.  If Kevin ever gets his sense of smell back, I can offer him that. So that was...super sad. 

I have been on a purge for weeks now  and I was determined to just deal with this right away.

I put the weird stuff - remotes, key chain, etc - directly into the giveaway pile.  Then I noticed that she had an air freshener that goes into the outlet that was nicer than mine.  Also, she had just reloaded it. Which I have to acknowledge that those realizations are effing brutal.  She refilled it, not thinking she wasn't returning to that house.  I put in the common folk bathroom and forgot about it.

All the meds, etc. went into the trash and recycling. I was going to toss the pill crushers then realized we might eventually need something like that.  I tossed it into the dishwasher instead. And isn't that a fun realization to have? No, no it's not.

Last step was dumping out the box of jewelry on my desk.  Mostly it's costume jewelry but one can't assume with her.  QVC was one of her favorite pastimes. Then there was a ring.  Just a silly little novelty ring that she used to wear all time.  I hadn't realized that she stopped wearing it until just now. 

As is explained about grief is it cannot be predicted.  Now I'm a teary mess seeing a little ring that is worth whatever a gumball machine cost nowadays.

I kept going though, separating out the obvious costume jewelry from the "Probably not but who knows" into piles.  I am keeping the ring though.  I won't wear it but will probably find some use for it.

After all of that, I went into the common folk bathroom just to blow my nose and blam! the fragrance of my in-laws house punched me right in my feelings.  So then I called it a day.  

Now yesterday the contractor was supposed to come out and do a final review of the house.  I went over there and made a list then emailed it to him.  While doing that, Kevin phoned and needed me to go back over there so I walked there while he was still on the phone.

And I nearly screamed.  There stands my father-in-law, checking out the house.  Probably a little bit in his feelings but because we startled each other, it was hidden.  We laughed then he helped add to the list then returned to the house.  Then the contractor arrived and we went through the entire house again, and added to the fix-it list.  This house is never going to be finished.  

Now I'm just frustrated and feeling defeated. But wait, there's more.  Kevin had arranged for an appraiser to come look at the house so we know what to list it for, assuming it's ever going to have completed repairs.  He arrived, late, and it turns out is in his seventies and on oxygen.  He wasn't much more healthier than my m-i-l was pre-hospice.  

He walked through the house, asking questions and commenting how nice it is.  I explained that it was their dream home and they put nearly everything they had into it.  He continued to comment about how nice it was and how lucky we are to have them near.  Normally, I would be all "Yeah, try it for a little while and let me know" but now that we're NOT doing it, I just felt sad.

We walked outside and sure enough, a dragonfly appeared out in the yard but flying high enough that I could see her from the house.  Now I'm teary and trying to answer the appraisers questions.

My guess is that I was so busy during the hospice thing that it's bubbling up now.  I tried, consciously tried not to stuff the feelings down in the deep, dark space during those months so I guess it could be worse?