Snail mail

As  POA for Mom, I've had to rely on my stash of legal size envelopes, stamps, and return address labels a few times.  That is in addition to having to fax things. The world runs on paper even still. Fax machines are still in use, as well as paper, real ink signatures, and postage.

I ran out of legal size envelopes, so I added them to my grocery list.  Previous to that, I was using just regular ole' envelopes, mostly to stay in touch with Mom.  We have been "faithful correspondents" for years since before I went away to college.  My handwriting was so sloppy that I started typing the letters.  I knew that she was delighted to receive them - she told me that it was the first thing she opened when she found one in the mail.  I wanted her to be able to read them with ease.  Short and sweet - one page long. Phone calls were for her to share what was going on in her life.  Truth be told, I wanted to hear it.  Even though she said I told her otherwise, I never did.

Looking at the plastic bin under my desk is hard. Mother may have misunderstood a thing or two that I wrote to her, and she often "quoted" me incorrectly, but writing her a letter, at least once every week or two, kept me grounded and connected to her.  At some point, I will collect all of those letters, that I am sure she never threw away, and add them to the collection of the letters she wrote to me in response.  They span years and years as a diary of our life together as mother and daughter.

Gus

Months ago I asked Mom what the plan was for Gus when it was time. "Gina, why can't you let me be happy?" was her reply. 

And I get that she didn't want to think of losing him.

But Gus was plagued by glaucoma and could not see.  Likely had migraines, according to the vet. Wasn't hearing too well.  Had a limp, probably due to arthritis or dislocated hip.  And had become incontinent.  This wasn't going to work  at my sister's house, and offers to help weren't really realistic.  Gus is an indoor dog and already a couple of years past his life expectancy.  Mom wasn't aware of Gus; Gus wasn't aware of Mom.  And there was no easy way around it - he had no quality of life and he needed us to relieve his suffering at the vet.  It was time.

So on Thursday, I did.

I understand what he meant to her and I know she would not willingly part with him.  But she was asked several times if she wanted to see Gus, and she said no. It was the second time I had to let a pet go this way, crying like a baby the whole time.  I know my mother will forgive me one day when he greets her in heaven with his happy little barks and wagging tail.  I have to believe that I made the right decision to end his suffering and act humanely.

Rest in peace, Gus.  

Its September

I wanted a whole lot of things to be different this month.

 Mom had sailed through her mastectomy, with very minor and expected surgical side effects.  She had one of my older sisters staying with her, which turns out was a very good thing.  All along I feared that mom was no longer safe by herself and I believe I was right.  Turns out she had fallen at least a couple of times before July - she just didn't tell all of us.  At two weeks post surgery she was feeling cantankerous and yelled at my sister that it was time for her to go.  Which my sister did - not recognizing a change of behavior in my mother.  And exactly three days later, mom had a stroke while standing, fell, and hit her head hard.

So, stroke plus head trauma. Add in broken ribs.

She spent a couple weeks  in the hospital, bouncing back and forth from ICU and Neuro.  Then she got transferred to a rehab hospital, which was no rehab at all.  Its only September as I type this, and maybe by the end of the month some big things will have been resolved, God willing, and we can find a safe place for Mom.

Happy things for August 2023

The happiest thing?  July is over.

Summer is almost over, too! 

Table for one, please.

I love sitting on my deck, even tho its hot.

Fall can't be far away, but also:

*I am going to get the last few maintenance items done on my car, and then I'm going to start the process of selling the truck.  That will make room in the driveway as well as eliminate that expense for me.

*2 of the 3 vehicles got updated (tags, titles, license plates) Expensive, but with a minimum of hassle.

*Related: my finances are improving. 

*I have now been at my new hospital for 3 months and my work stress is greatly reduced.  Like comparing night to day!  I like my co-workers, boss, commute time, pay, hours, equipment, and working conditions.  

*After getting over a 2 year hump, I am feeling better.  I know there will be rainy days ahead, too.  But the sunny ones seem to be lasting longer now. 

If it ain't broke, I fixed it

Lately I think "if it ain't broke, I fixed it"*.

I have hired someone to take care of some things but I have also done some fixing myself!

my humble abode

Sometimes as I am doing these things, I think "well, this isn't working out to be perfect", but what is?  Even Mark had a learning curve.  I can imagine him fixing something for the first time, doing his best and knowing that a done something was better than a perfect nothing. I also imagine him cheering me on, urging me not to give up.  I'm learning a lot about things I never thought I would need to.  And I am proud of me.

*Grayson's version is "if it ain't broke, don't break it"

Happy things for July 2023

 I am settling in to my new shift, though for the last couple of weeks I have been working extra hours and taking a tad bit extra call.  There will always be happy things:

my desk at work

*Highlands sold in a week, and for what I expected to get, without me even getting someone to mow it.  The new owner even wants the canoe and the trailer.

*My boss fixed my pay - I wasn't receiving the full weekend differential.  So not only are my paychecks bigger than what they were when I was working 40 hours M-F, I got back pay for that missing differential.

*My nails are still growing and look great.

*My cholesterol is down.

*My mother did well in her surgery and is at home, resting and recovering.

*I am moving forward with big projects at home.

Discovering what I don't want

 I have spent much time over the past few months thinking "what do I want?".

It may sound ridiculous, but as a married person, all of my wants and plans were filtered through a marriage.  There wasn't much space in there for me to give an opinion.  But that was then and this is now.

Sometimes it takes pain from something to realize its no longer meant for you. I was wearing my snake boots at Highlands, doing a few things both inside and outside of the barn. Sweating in the brutal heat and humidity, bugs in my face, the inside of the boot heel slowly scaping away my skin,  I thought "I don't want this.  Any of it.".  

I was willing to think of Highlands as an acceptable retirement place. It truly is a place of beauty, and I will forever remember the time spent admiring long sunsets, peaceful breezes, and the wonder of the sky at night.  But it also is a place of harsh weather conditions, cactus and tall grass with lots of rocks, country wildlife and insects, very hard work, and isolation. And there's no way now that I will ever use it for what it was intended.

And so, I do now know more about what I want!