Aug. 19th, 2012 @ 09:08 pm
Well, I'm back in my apartment after a week with my family. The visitation/memorial/not a funeral was easier than I expected. Lots of people came by, saying nice things - as one would expect. Of course, the gambling addict/manager of the family store was acting like he was part of the family (um, no). He brought his wife and daughter, who had a look on her face like she was either a disaffected teenager or constipated. You take your pick. |
It was certainly an interesting setup, though, with people showing their class stripes. A few people sent in food that the family didn't really get a chance to eat. All sorts of random people lounged around the family lounge at the funeral home, stuffing their faces. Then, when I tried to grab a platter of sweets, my diabetic aunt 'volunteered' to take them (and some non-edibles which DID make it home) to the car and not so shockingly, they didn't make it. I mean, it was just as well, but I mean, really? Who does that. Oh, and apparently, there is no dress code for memorial services. We went from suits to shorts/t-shirts to streetwalker (one of my cousin's kids).
My sister and I did as much as we could for our mom while we were on bereavement leave. We waited for the weather to cool down and Friday, we went about cleaning out the closet, which our dad had commandeered. Since we were giving most of the clothes to Goodwill, I had to look in all the pockets to make sure there wasn't any money or anything important. Somehow, the ew factor of finding two different condoms in suit pockets didn't detur me (though, as my mom's tubes have been tied since my birth, it did provide further evidence of him being a bad husband), but disposing of a father's porn stash isn't exactly a normal activity. After we bagged up the closet (and started taking everything to goodwill & dumpsters), it looked like a completely different place. My mom finally has somewhere to hand her clothes and store Christmas stuff. Along with that, my sister completely changed the bedspread and moved the tv so that our mom could sleep in what felt like a different room.
One random thing is my ex-sister-in-law's presence. She's a pathological liar and horrible human being, and we're wondering what her angle is. I mean, she's spent the last fifteen years making my brother's life miserable, but for the past week, she's come around with the ol "call me if I can help" routine. She was acting friendly, commenting on how my sister and I looked different (than we did 15 years ago). If she knew how much my mom loathed her, she... nah, she'd probably still come around, thinking that she was a good enough con artist to overcome such things as that.
Anyway, though my dad did try to get a lot of stuff set up for my mom, I really wish he would have sold his business once his health started to go downhill. At this point, it's the main stress left for my mom. We have some crooked employees, including the manager who steals from the business. Once she can get rid of it, she can go visit family and destress. I don't care if the buyer razes the place to the ground.
Nothing special to say but I'm here man. I hope your mom can unload the business soon, yeah. It's cool you and Tara got the bedroom looking all new though, I bet that was a huge help to your mom psychologically. And thank God you were the one who got rid of your dad's stuff instead of her.
As for the evil ex-sister-in-law, yuck. The sooner your mom is rid of all these vultures the better.
Yeah, my main mission of the week was to get rid of as many reminders as I could. My sister and I will be making several trips over the next few months to try to get our mom set up.
You know, the crazy thing is, because my dad was never really around the house (until he got sick), until it got late, it didn't really seem strange that he wasn't home. I did however, catch myself thinking, at about 7pm one night, when I was out doing errands, that it might be about time for him to get home.
That's happened to me before...in my case, the most recent time was when I saw a look-alike of someone I had known in the grocery store and went to greet her, only to stop and be reminded that there was no way it could be her since she was gone.
I was sad but I was also kind of glad that she was still present for me in my thoughts and expectations. I know the situation with your dad is pretty different, but I guess even with the distance he imposed during his life, his presence will still be there for you sometimes. I can understand where you'd want to limit that for your mother right now. Dealing with stuff like that naturally as it comes is probably a lot better than being forced to face it every time you turn around and see some object or other. I've been really impressed with you and your sister's practicality throughout the ordeal. I think your mom has the best help she can get right now.
Are you doing okay? I know you've been focused on helping your mom, but I hope you're taking care of yourself too. Do you personally need anything?
Yeah, I think I'm okay. I've always been closer to my mom, and I readily admit that if it was her, I'd be inconsolable. But with my dad, we were never really close, because we're both very reserved and had similar personalities. My brother and sister had him in their lives a little more, but not a lot. It was more of a practical relationship (provider) than an emotional one.
It was interesting that in the slide show that he picked out, I was the only one of his kids who made it into the pictures. I don't know how much of it was the simple fact that I'm a camera hog, or if he was trying to send me a message.
While I was in town, I put some of his old pictures, cards, letters, and what not in an album, and I was both amazed that he used to write legibly and annoyed that I couldn't call him on his report cards when he was around. He used to always say that he always had "A"s, never had a B. Well, he had a stack of all of his old report cards (probably from after his mom passed), and that was a straight up lie.
But, yeah, I feel like I've dealt with it, but who knows. Maybe when I'm drugged up after my next dental surgery, I'll have to write my next stream-of-consciousness rant.