Stargazer

Not much

There isn't much left of a person when the water is gone. I thought the funeral home was delivering the bulk of Dad's ashes to the cemetery tomorrow, but when I arrived there to pick up the small scattering boxes, decorative urn and death certificates, they handed me this as well. How well I remember the green bag from 2012! There is a photo somewhere of Patt's ashes sitting on his recliner in one. 

My small urn is gray for Dad, but otherwise is exactly like Patt's blue one. In more black humor, if this year continues this way it's been going, I'll soon have a collection. 

My mom offered me some of her beautiful flower arrangements; unfortunately, due to Easter, every one of them has white lilies. We cat people know that lilies are poisonous to kitties. Mari loves to munch on plants; she's lovable and sweet, yet also quite stupid.

You can see what I mean here--again with the white lilies, and white roses. Purple is another predominant color this time of year.

I'm not doing much to learn about my Iphone 12 Pro camera, but I freely admit that it takes spectacularly detailed photos. I didn't accomplish everything I wanted to today, although I did make an appointment to get my car's (long overdue) oil change. I also emailed the estate lawyer (AGAIN), who told me erroneously that I should pay out Poochie's charitable bequests from the one estate account I've been able to establish. I had to explain to him that $14,000 won't cover the $100,000 Poochie designated to three charities, and that I need the wealth management group to get their sh*t together start the process of making that much larger amount of money an estate account. And shhh, a trip back east is in the early planning stages! 

I'm hoping to visit these now grown up daughters in May: the terrified younger child and the nervous older one. I've never understood why this nightmarish bunny appears to have blood on its teeth! Note: my mother-in-law took the girls to see this Repulsive Rabbit while I was at work. Except for candy/chocolate covered malted milk eggs and chocolate coconut nests, I'm not that much into Easter. 

 

 

 

Everything

A complaint is filed with the FTC over my Mom's scam, and I also had a pleasant conversation with a gentlemen at the state AG's office who told me reassuringly, "You've done everything you can." In the meantime, I decided to freeze my credit due to advice from blog friends and my tax preparer, as well as checking my bank account every couple hours obsessively. It feels like I'm not seeing something coming, no matter how much I'm looking over my shoulder. Am I going to get blindsided somehow? And I'm already so very tired of worrying, grieving, and fighting sadness and anger. It's not a comfortable combination of emotions, is it? 

Today Mari and I are grateful for sun and blue skies. I had an atrocious walk yesterday afternoon; it hailed, blew, and poured. My hands were frozen, my hair kept whipping into my face, and I was generally miserable about many things. 

Last night John prepared a delicious dinner of various sides (roasted cauliflower in turmeric and curry--with lentils-yum!) Then being the amazingly supportive boyfriend he is, he jumped in to help look for information on my mom's behalf. Does her Medicare supplement go away because it was attached to my dad's pension, which she has lost at his death? How does his Social Security switch over to her? Does she have to do something? I'm trying to be a helpful daughter, but between my Personal Representative activities, preparations for Dad's niche side service, and the identity theft issues, it's all so overwhelming. I hope I don't forget to pick up Dad's death certificates and ashes at the funeral home tomorrow...

Darling and brilliant grandson, who is already attempting to say words like octopus and banana recently ate a gourmet style meal of manicotti and eggplant. I vote "NO" on eggplant though! At 10 months, my daughters were probably eating most of their food out of jars.:( That was over 30 years ago, and everything changes, doesn't it? Sometimes it can even be for the better. 

Black Comedy Partie Deux

There have been times this past week that I've felt like I was reaching my breaking point, culminating in yesterday's not-so-perfect storm. The day started out decently with the publication of Dad's obituary; between my more pedestrian writing skills, and Ashley's proofreading and flair, his tribute turned out exactly as I would have wanted--not just a reflection of his life, but also an illumination of his incredible personality. Yet the dark side of this surfaced later that evening with an upset call from my mother. Mom is nearly 89, but very with it; she puts up with no crap from scammers and usually gets them to hang up on her or tell her to eff off. However, when a person purporting to be from the funeral home called and wanted all sorts of information, she gave it to them. Including my name, address and social security, as well as her own SS number. My first reaction was intense anger, "YOU DID WHAT?" I wanted to scream, and cry and berate her. (but didn't) Haven't we been through enough this week? Now THIS? But knowing my mom and how much she was beating herself up already and considering everything she's been through over the past months, last month and this week, my brother and I immediately moved into crisis mode. It's done and over with, so we need to focus on the solution, and not the very substantial and terrifying problem. When we showed up to mom's, she was obviously distraught, but by the time we left--complete with Equifax fraud alerts and an expensive subscription to Norton's Lifelock identity theft protection, I think she felt marginally better. And what kind of low-life trolls obituaries to then use the information to scam the elderly? While my brother and I were busy on our cell phones signing up for various things(no internet at mom's), and finding the phone number for the Washington State Attorney General's office to call Monday, Mom was dragging out old photos of Dad.

Wasn't he adorable at two? 

On a more mundane note, I ordered some new soaps, and I like them all, which is a bit unusual without a sniff test. This morning, I had to call Lifelock because the agent last night misspelled my first name. While I was talking to them, Mari decided to throw up on the carpet. As I've said before, if this overload of crap weren't so awful, it would (almost) be funny. Now that the cat mess is cleaned up, I need to head off to check my bank accounts. I'm afraid that a state of extreme vigilance is going to be the story of my life for a while. :(

 

 

In Remembrance

Yesterday, John and I toasted my dad with a delicious brown ale that belonged to him; it was a gift from a friend of mine, someone who was like another daughter to him because our parents were best friends. Dad very occasionally drank a beer, but had been too ill for the past few months to even do that. Since I rarely drink, and this Scotch ale was 6.3%, it was fortuitous that John and I shared it. Otherwise, between tiredness, stress and emotions, I might have gotten a bit silly. Or extremely weepy. 

Yesterday also included picking out Dad's niche at the cemetery, and contacting people who might like to attend his niche opening. In these pandemic times, we're very limited as to how many we can invite which is a shame. I had to take DEEP breaths as I went over details with the cemetery manager, my mom and my brother...while my sister-in-law(who insisted on being there) had her mask pulled down below her nose and spent most of our meeting time texting on her cell phone. A windy walk later blew off some of that frustration. Oh, the HAIR!

My Pfizer #2 is now in the bag! And isn't it fabulous that I have a state of the art camera in my new IPhone 12 Pro, so that I could capture such a clear shot of the guy behind me? ;) Good Lawd. 

Today I wrote my dad's obituary, then sent it off to be torn to shreds by my older daughter. It was exactly what I wanted her to do, and was payback for the many papers she had me proofread. :) Note: I am a vicious critic if someone asks me to be. Ashley and I both tend to verbosity, as many of you blog readers already realize. How many times did I tell her, "You're using five sentences when you should condense it to one powerful one without as many extraneous details." This time she was the one ripping apart my sentences! Now we're trying to find a picture that represents the man we love so dearly. I wish this one weren't so blurry. 

I like this background, but Dad's smile is more tentative. My brother prefers the top one, whereas Ashley likes this photo. I've been feeling a little guilty lately that many of my Facebook friends were blindsided by my dad's death. As I've mentioned before, FB is Margaret Lite, thus I never posted about my dad's diagnosis or condition. However, you blog readers have been well aware of my concerns and Dad's dire prognosis since fall. Am I going to start linking my blog to Facebook to give those friends a more in depth look at my life? In a word, no. In a more descriptive way, HELL NO. This is my more intimate place, and I'd prefer to keep it that way. 

 

Black Humor

Yesterday so much went wrong at every step that if it hadn't been tragic, it might have been funny. There was the stress of the dead cell phone, John's expert (but unsuccessful) attempts to resuscitate it, the one hour wait at the Verizon store that we skipped, then the trip to Costco where a lovely young cell phone expert named Kareem gave me a bit too much sympathy. Sobbing in the aisle of the Costco was not what I intended. At least I was semi-hiding behind a mask! I wanted an Iphone that they didn't have in stock, thus I ended up saying "I'll take it!" to the Iphone 12 Pro. Expensive, and not really me at all. Three cameras? You've seen my photos...Naturally, I'm struggling a bit to figure it out the differences (no home button?)  and don't enjoy having to locate and input my passwords for various sites and apps. My photos aren't downloaded, and I'm not even sure that all of them will do so. However, I can't worry about that right now. Everyone asks how my mom is adjusting, and the answer is: I'm not sure. She seems to be OK, but she hides her emotions and doesn't want to worry any of us. She's nearly 89, and not in the best of health either. Sigh.

Remember when I mentioned that I don't need three cameras in my phone? I have NO gift for photography. I tried to lighten this picture of my parents and turned it peach. I can see where I get my bushy hair, can't you?

It did feel weird this morning to wake up, not very aware of reality yet (pre-coffee) and realize that for the first time in 64 years my dad was no longer in this world. If I'm reading an excellent book, I can't discuss it with him. If something important happens in the news, I can't get his well-reasoned take on it. I will miss his hugs and unconditional love,  constantly present even when I was being a temperamental teenager!

Although nothing can make me into a decent photographer, the new cell phone camera is definitely better than the one in the iPhone 7, for a price. On the John front, he got a call a few days ago from a Sequim number; it turned out to be the Sequim police who were at his mom's house. She had turned on a YouTube Mass which kept looping. Somehow, she thought she was at the church, and needed to find someone to shut and lock it up. When the police came(they were very nice), she was extremely confused about where she was and what was going on. John will soon have some hard and unpleasant decisions to make. To add to the strangeness of yesterday, it turned out that the place John and I went to have the diamond ring appraised (Seattle Design Center) was where he got married to his late wife Christine. He described what it looked like, where they stood, where the tables were, where they went afterward, and didn't seem bothered, but I felt guilty. 

I'm walking through some real and metaphorical shadows at the moment. You have to have sun to make shadows though, right? Light and dark, good and bad, sadness and joy--they're two sides of the same coin. As an example, John told me that his mom sent us her condolences, and wanted him to buy flowers for mom on her behalf. John, not being fond of sympathy flowers, steered her away from that idea, so instead of flowers, she wanted John to give my mom some Marie Callender chicken pot pies! Dementia is a horrible condition, yet Mom and I were touched about the pot pies. As always, I'm taking things one step at a time. The tears come and go, then come again.  However, I'm grateful that the wonderful memories stay and always will. 

 

In Memoriam

“For a moment of night we have a glimpse of ourselves and of our world islanded in its stream of stars — pilgrims of mortality, voyaging between horizons across eternal seas of space and time,"-Henry Beston

Today was when my (ancient) Iphone 7, that I needed desperately as on no other day, decided to die. That meant no one could reach me, and I couldn't call or text anyone either since I couldn't access my contacts. :( John and I had taken the diamond ring up to Seattle for another appraisal, my last one. $1,800 has been the top price we'll get for the rings unless someone (cop cousin?) is willing to attempt a direct sale. I was particularly concerned about no cell phone because Dad had had a horrible time yesterday; he was agitated, and kept trying to get out of bed. He reminded me of my late husband the day before he died--the confusion, combined with bursts of energy. And sure enough, when I contacted my mom this afternoon, using John's cell phone, he was much worse. An hour later my brother called me, sobbing, to tell me that Dad had died. I can't say enough about John and his support and caring; when I wasn't able to think clearly or figure out what to do, he gently guided me through this mess of a day. Dad's death was expected, and we weren't surprised, but it doesn't mean immediate acceptance. It doesn't make the pain and loss any less. I will always treasure my father's support, his humor, and his kindness. We shared a love of books, which we often discussed in an impromptu Father-Daughter "book club." We laughed at the same sarcastic quips, and loved/disliked the same politicians. :) Although some neighbors aren't fond of my mother because she can be opinionated, no one in the world doesn't adore my dad. There has certainly been no better person, father, and grandfather. But he did tell one of the caregivers the other day in a lucid moment, "Let me go." So, we did, reluctantly. 

He brought joy to all of us. 

Even at 64, I will always remain his little girl. I love you, Dad and will miss you forever. 

 

 

 

 

Rings and things

If there's an easy part to being the Personal Representative to an estate, I haven't found it yet. The ditzy former PR told me, "It's just signing some papers!" I was well aware from my mother's 60+ years of knowing her that she was an idiot, so I didn't believe a word she said. However, I still took on the job because Cecelia would have done a terrible job, and I can do (marginally) better. The rings have been an issue though. The wedding ring came back with an appraisal of $8,800 which won't be what I'll get for it. I intend to take it to three places and see what happens. Cousin Johnny tactfully mentioned that the first offer was much too low, and gave me exactly what I wanted. An offer of help! A guy who is a cop might feel much more comfortable doing a direct sale than I do. I'll still spend my time running the ring around and learning about various diamond cuts, color and clarity (boring), but feel a little less pressure on the decision-making. I did make the mistake of inquiring about the ring on-line; it was a well-regarded internet site. Immediately, there was an e-mail response, asking me twice for my location, where I was based and what my cell phone number was. Don't think poorly of me, but I lied and told her that the ring was already sold. Then there's the other flower shaped antique ring; the first jeweler fell in love with it and wanted to buy it for her personal collection. It's a Euro cut stone from the late 1800s. Since my sister-in-law was interested in the ring though, my mom has said she'll buy it from the estate for the price the jeweler offered. Is your head spinning yet? Under normal circumstances, I would have just given my sister-in-law the ring, but as the PR, it would be completely unethical to do so with four heirs involved. "It's complicated" doesn't even begin to describe the interactions between the heirs and the other officials dealing with this estate. Sigh.

I spend most of my walking time admiring the blooming trees, but also fretting about when I'll get my paperwork to get started paying bills, when the lawyer will answer my questions about the taxes and other estate matters, and when Poochie's financial advisor will return my call so I can discuss the myriad complexities of splitting her assets. Then I jump to wondering whether we should get Poochie's car repaired before selling or ask for a lower price as is. That sound is me performing some Primal Scream Therapy.

Look at my new hair do. Psych! No, I didn't cut my long locks--it's just windy. :)

Silly as it is, mowing my lush and very green lawn is always great therapy. Putting those lines in the grass gives me a sense of control that is sorely lacking in the rest of my life!

 

Blatherskite

A 92 year old man with terminal leukemia isn't waging a battle; instead he's fading away and withdrawing into himself. Today Dad "slept" for my whole visit, although he did open his eyes sometimes and tried to mumble a few words. There wasn't much recognition, and I didn't see much of my father left in there. I'm still waging my own "battles" with the caregivers, albeit in a passive-aggressive way. When I overheard the woman caregiver complaining to Hospice about the nurse, I went home and made my own call during which I explained the situation and that my mother and I had been impressed with the openness and information the nurse gave us about the process the dying body goes through. Hospice is for end of life comfort care, culminating in death! The male caregiver made a reference to "that idiot nurse" who talked about my father's progression to death with him in the other room; I don't find that shocking or terrible. Dad confronted his death back in September when he started feeling awful, and understood his prognosis in December when they discussed the disease with the hematologist. Yet the caregivers (and my sister-in-law)are convinced that my nearly deaf father can suddenly hear well; nothing my mom and I can say will convince them otherwise. They are sure that he should eat, even when numerous nurses tell them that dying people don't want or need to. My sister-in-law was angry at me today because I matter-of-factly mentioned a meeting Mom and I have with a woman at Woodbine with her 9 and 14 year old children in the room. I didn't even say the words "death" or "cemetery!" The irony (hypocrisy?) of this is that the other day my niece was telling me all about how cool it was to play Fortnite because she had killed a whole bunch of people with a gun. "But don't worry, there isn't any blood." This was right after the Atlanta murders, so I felt compelled to let her know that in real life, getting shot hurts or kills people, and that there is lots of blood. I'm definitely not making points with my sister-in-law, am I? Oh, well. In the meantime, I'm also dealing with Poochie's stuff, managing her estate, organizing my dad's resting place, and trying not to lose my temper. It's exhausting...

In the small world category, the funeral home woman I talked to is not only the wife of someone I taught with for decades, but is also this Cle Elum jeweler's great-great granddaughter. I also spoke to Kathy at Woodbine Cemetery, who exclaimed, "I know you! We were both Fruitland Elementary room moms." Our daughters went to grade school, junior high and high school together. Then she proceeded to tell me that her younger daughter has been homeless for four years, is mentally ill and a drug user, and that her retired husband and she are rearing their 1st grade granddaughter. She claims that working at the cemetery has been a blessing; she doesn't feel so alone in her grief and has gotten perspective through others' tragedies. She's a much more philosophical person than I am because I think her situation sucks. 

I'm still enjoying going through some of Poochie's cards, like this Christmas one with a plane that looked like their Beechcraft Bonanza split tail. I didn't get to fly very often with Grandpa since I am prone to airsickness. Enough said. 

Although my dad isn't aware of his surroundings, his room is still decorated, like with this wedding photo. My younger daughter inherited his forehead! :)

John had an excellent Zoom conversation today with his Air Force buddies; doesn't he have the best background? My ex-boyfriend had no friends, just family members, while John has a bunch of guy friends and close relationships with his family. The pandemic has caused some of my friendships to suffer, which isn't unexpected, but still makes me sad. It's something to work on once I'm completely vaccinated. 

Younger Daughter has a new aspect to her medical litigation job where she actually talks to claimants. It has the potential to be stressful because people can be nasty. However, it can also be heartrending, like the conversation with the widow of a claimant. Alison had to ask her some questions, to which she responded, " I don't know, he took care of him, he took care of me, he took care of everything." My late husband Mr. Capable, wouldn't allow that and expected me to be able to do things--or at least figure out ways to manage. Thus, when this panel of my fence started to separate (on the neighbor's side), I located a few bungee cords and lashed it together. He would have been proud. 

 

 

St Patrick's Day

Although one of my grandmothers was a Flanagan, and I have been known to celebrate this holiday(mostly in my younger years when I liked crowds and green beer), I'm not very into wearing green or getting pinched these days. Five years ago today I went on a first date with a guy who I ended up dating for over two years. I was madly infatuated with him and we had a fabulous connection, when he wasn't withdrawing from me due to depression and a multitude of other issues. When we talk about people having baggage, this guy had about ten packed suitcases. Still, on this day, I wonder how he's doing, and hope that he's worked through some of his problems and has found ways to be happy. Speaking of that, I'm working on my own attitude about my dad's caregivers which has soured considerably. Dad is content and comfortable there, so I need to let go of my reservations. However, I will bore you with them. Yesterday a Hospice nurse (RN) came to talk to us and check Dad over; he discussed end of life issues and what was likely to happen. (less eating, more sleeping) In his words, like birth, the body knows what to do when it's dying; the organs shut down, including the brain. He nixed a few things like a catheter, and a belt to keep Dad from trying to get out of bed. He encouraged the anti-anxiety medication, and reminded us not to call 911 but to contact Hospice instead. And the caregivers, the CNA and my sister-in-law were outraged! They want to feed him, treat any conditions he has, and are apparently hoping for a miracle for a 92 year old man with acute myeloid leukemia. Is it because they're all evangelical Christians? My mom and I were taken aback by their dislike of the nurse, who has worked for Hospice for ten years, and who gave us detailed and truthful explanations of what we're looking at with Dad. However, it was evidently not what they wanted to hear. As I know from my previous experience with Hospice, they demystify the process of death; it's a normal event that we'll all have to face some day. I do think that Dad is ready to go; he enjoys seeing his loved ones, but his quality of life is nearly non-existent otherwise. Sigh. 

It's a beautiful, but chilly day for a walk over to visit with Dad. The trees are budding, the weeds are growing(unfortunately), and my tulips should be starting to bloom in a few weeks. I will take some DEEP breaths and hold on to my patience and my tongue. Wish me luck! 

Times

There are times when I sit with Dad, and our conversation is engaging and lively, like it always has been between us. The other day we discussed my latest Book Club read, "Hamnet." Dad is a literature fan, and loves Shakespeare. We talked about the dark side of genius, and life in the harsh Elizabethan era, among many other topics. A few minutes later, he asked me if his dad was still alive since he thought he had heard him talking with a couple other people. (Grandpa died in the late '70s) Today he shared that he didn't think he was going to be able to get his strength back to walk, ever again. He's such a sweet and courtly man, full of wit and intelligence, yet his mind is fading into the past and he's not always aware of reality. Although it's a normal part of this process, it's painful to watch it happen to a loved one. 

I look tired because I am. I feel like I'm being pulled in so many directions: dealing with the required tasks of Poochie's estate (now officially the Personal Representative), visiting with Dad, helping mom and providing company and support for her, and longing to visit my daughters and my grandson, which is impossible right now.:(  I also have my own bills, my house and its many responsibilities, and John. Although John is completely understanding, kind and undemanding, I still want to spend time with him--when I'm not rushing off somewhere else. Yesterday I resented having to submit to the ridiculous one hour time change; when can we get rid of it? I still haven't wrestled with my car clock; that's usually good for some tears and swear words...

Sometimes when I'm over at Dad's, I get a lap cuddle from Diego, their sweet kitty. I need to remember not to wear my black leggings over there though. Since Mari is black, I never think about her hair all over me. Orange fur is much more obvious!

Dad isn't eating much, but he's enjoying a few things like fresh eggs from the care couple's chickens. (feathers not included!) At least he hasn't lost his love of eggs or sweets, even if he can only take a few bites. He is to the stage of his life where he is savoring these small moments. Kisses and hugs from his kids. An adorable video of his great-grandson on my phone. An unexpected snow fall this morning outside his window. 

In spite of the snowflakes and colder weather, the daffodils are blooming at my parents' house; soon I'll see some of my early tulips open up. I love their multitude of colors and styles and usually fill my posts with photos of my favorites. That will be something to look forward to. 

"I am going to notice the lights of the earth, the sun and the moon and the stars, the lights of our candles as we march, the lights with which spring teases us, the light that is already present." -Anne Lamott