Wow. I’m hoping to soon start thinking about revising novels again. Maybe as soon as tomorrow. The last few weeks have been something else!
Steve is recovering more rapidly than had been expected at the outset. He was transfered to our local hospital on Saturday and his mom is trying to get him released as he isn’t hooked up to anything and she figures it will go faster at home. So he is really, truly, officially on the mend.
I spent the weekend with my sisters. All three of the sisses from far away were there, plus the local sis and I. It was enough to make the nurses think we needed name tags! Not only that, but several from the next generation came as well. And my one nephew brought his wife and 11 month old son along, neither of whom had met the extended family before. So now my mom has seen all of her great-grandkids. It was good to have the sisters together as we made huge headway into dismantling Mom’s apartment. Certainly there have been tears as we realize that phase of life is over and another, difficult, one is in front of us. Mom’s name is on the extended care list for a nursing home bed. In the meanwhile, she will remain in hospital until one comes available. She’s been told about the extent of her stroke and the outlook for her, but she doesn’t retain it all every day.
On Sunday we celebrated Mother’s Day a little early being as it was the only time all the sisters would be together before they start heading back from whence they came. My nephew picked up enough Buster Bars from Dairy Queen (Mom’s favorite treat) for the whole family–16 of us that day, I think–and we gathered in the hospital cafeteria with Mom in a wheelchair. It seemed like she enjoyed the outting, but apparently today she’s forgotten it happened. Oh well. We tried, and she did smile yesterday.
In 1991 when we were all together (my sisters have lived overseas for most of their lives, so *getting together* doesn’t happen often) my mom asked us to talk about what we wanted to inherit when the time should come. There are not many treasures as my parents did not have a materialistic mindset, but there were a few things from our grandmother, and some items such as serving bowls that had been our parents’ wedding gifts in 1943. So at that time we made a list and wrote our names.
My nieces and I spent much of the weekend sorting out the apartment, starting with that list made in ’91. A few times a sister would say, “I said I wanted that???? Why would I say that?” So there was a bit of trading going on but it went smoothly. My nieces and I also identified other items that had value–sentimental or otherwise–and laid them out to be picked over. We also shredded a lot of paper! My parents collected a lot of bits of poetry and jokes and short stories, etc, over the years. Our other task was to deal with the obvious garbage and recyclable material. In theory, what would be left at the other end would be items for a garage sale.
Working with my nieces brightened the task a great deal for me. Being members of the family, they had sentimental attachment to stuff, but being another generation removed also gave them more objectivity. And they enjoyed finding cards and treasures they’d given Grandma years before as well!
So the bulk of that sorting has now been done. We have until the end of May to have the place completely emptied, and the local sis and I expect to have a *garage sale* right in the apartment that last weekend to try to sell the furniture, kitchen stuff, lamps, etc, that the family has no need of. The apartment has been in the family for 22 years, so the building’s owners plan to repaint and redo floors when we’re done so we can have the sale inside no matter the weather. (Each unit has an outside entrance of its own.) So when we get over there with a vehicle some time this month we’ll bring back the stuff I have set aside.
Emotionally, it’s been a roller coaster. There were a lot of tough moments but also good times with family. Sisters and their kids are starting to trickle back away from BC and the excitement will be over, at least for awhile. Probably. We don’t know the future, but God does.