But... Sort of camping out at my mother's house, until we get it ready to sell, I've been gardening, mending things, patching plaster and paint, she'd laugh at me.... After all she's said before "You'll finish that when I'm dead!", and now she's proved right.
So far, I've not been haunted, unless the flowers leaping out of the vase at the funeral was a spot of poltergeistery.
One of the jobs I'm doing involves dealing with all the companies who are reluctant to believe she doesn't need to pay them any more money. Oh my. How difficult it is to fight through level after level of simpletons, explaining the same thing over and over again, only to be told "I'll have to put you through to my supervisor", followed by an age on hold listening to elevator music.
Oh and "Your call is important to us. We are experiencing unusually high numbers of calls at the moment, All our operators are busy, thank you for holding........" Then, I either get cut off, and just like a character who's just been killed in a video-game, I have to start all over at level one, with no ammo-packs or medi-kits.
The final level boss usually expresses surprise that I've had such a hard journey, and been shot down so many times on the way to their door.
It's getting easier as I learn their ways.
Next up? I have to write a letter to a bishop in London, to get permission for interment of my mother's ashes in an officially closed churchyard.
So, I've not been wandering the blogosphere much for a while. There's no internet here.... unless someone leaves an open wireless connection up for a while. Hm. Well, there are about nine secured networks up right now and one open.
I'll assume, shall I, that the owner's just charitably offering to share a little bandwidth? (rather than just not having the sense to password his or her network?), So. It may disappear at any time.
Ave et vale, friends, with a swirl of my cape, I'm gone again.
I'll be back.
I am the grit in the gears, the missing bolt, I am the poker of sticks into spokes. I like to know how things work, but sometimes when I take them apart and rebuild them, I have a few pieces left over. I am a man, so I tend to leave reading the instructions until after it goes wrong. And like all men I have a comprehensive mental map of the world and never need to ask directions. I never get lost, only sometimes I'm late, or end up in the wrong place entirely. It's what we do.
I don't envy you. Been there, done that. But I had no cape, even.
ReplyDeleteoh, that is so sad, "you'll finish this when I am dead"! I am so glad though that you were able to spend time with your mother before the end. We have an Englushman on the corner who is an idiot, he is jobless, his father in the UK is 90 and would like him to come back at least for a visit but he does not...
ReplyDeleteAll the best, thinking of you. (toothache scrambled brain)
ReplyDeleteDifficult time for you. Keep to the positives.
ReplyDeleteMax: The cape's just an old blanket, but I have a strong imagination.
ReplyDeleteGary: What can I say?
Just what I'd always say when my mother was criticising my manners or my actions "Badly brought up, so who's to blame?!".
On emptying cupboards, I find a shirt of mine of which, a couple of years ago, she said "Leave that here, I'll mend it for you".
Maybe she was holding it hostage.
I always had jobs awaiting here, but I'd get sidetracked, listening to stories, or she'd persuade me into taking her out somewhere. Remember, an unfinished task is always a reason to return.
I've not talked with the final-level boss yet but when I do there will be many complaints to deal with!
ReplyDeleteHappy repairing and fixin
I rememeber those days after mom died and Shila and I moved to her house. Consolidated with moms stuff, we had three refrigerators, two sets washer Driers, 5 beds, 3 couches, 12 dining room chairs, 8 breakfast chairs, 4 coffee tables and 18 pie pans. We had our first fight over the pie pans.
ReplyDeleteGoing through drawers you found the usual stuff....coupons expired 25 years ago, rebate cards filled out unmailed dated 15 years prior, seashells collected when I was 8, my baby spoon, my sisters 3rd grade report card from 1966...it made me reaize I needed to hang onto some stupid stuff just so my kids could get a laugh once I was gone.