Okay.
Judy and I had a GREAT day today - cooking this morning and celebrating Thanksgiving with neighbor friends who are the most charming people we know. They are such a fun-loving couple and we may not have the same political ideology, but they know how to make everyone feel special and loved. It was fabulous!
There's this nagging, gnawing feeling that keeps chewing away at our peace of mind and circumstance. There are 28 other family members who don't give a rats ass about us, and it totally pisses me off.
I messaged with our family from afar today ... random texts and a few pictures. So ... generic. They have chosen to disassociate themselves because their parents/grandparents are gone and ... from where I stand (as the administrator of the estates and Judy's guardian) what I see: they don't feel in any way responsible for their aunt who is the beneficiary keeping them from their inheritance. They are just biding their time.
In the meantime, people that I really would love to spend more time with - people who have been a part of my life for so long that I truly love and I know them and they know me ... we've been split down the middle by this person in the White House (who has NO BUSINESS being there) but that's the point.
Today, Jim engaged in a conversation with me via Greg's FB post over the SEAL dude who's been in the news lately - and DT has vindicated of wrongdoing... blah blah blah. It really makes me sad that people can't just agree to disagree.
So, the message of this blog is that I am a bad person because
1. I have control over the family estate.
2. I think we have a crappy president.
3. People don't like it that I have an opinion.
4. Judy's life is nobody's responsibility but mine.
I think that fucking sucks and if, God forbidding, I outlive her, they will be sorry.
Thursday, November 28, 2019
Tuesday, November 26, 2019
2019 Holidays
It's really hard getting motivated to celebrate, decorate, and entertain.
Used to be so easy to juggle a full time job, shopping, decorating, planning for both my house and my family's house. Even as our parents' health declined, I still managed to get it all done - and more importantly, joyfully so.
Not anymore.
As selfish as it sounds, I was accustomed to living alone, and my evenings and weekends were my own to do what I chose. If I wanted to pile up presents in the dining room or in the guest room, or drag all the wrappings to the living room and create a disaster for a week or more, or more than likely NOT cook dinner and just pick up something or meet friends for dinner then slip in some shopping after work, or start dragging out the Christmas stuff bit by bit and leave it scattered about in the hallways - I could just do whatever, whenever. There was nobody else to consider when I left work at 6:30 (or later).
Not anymore.
Now my days/free hours are sandwiched between 8 am and 4 pm - when I used to go to work during those hours and the rest was mine to schedule for ME time. Even the days that I stayed late at work, which admittedly I did Monday - Thursday (and once a month forfeited a Saturday for a "workday"), at the end of every day I had ME time.
Not anymore.
I feel suffocated by the daily grind now. Cooking is a chore. Keeping the pantry staples stocked for another person is burdensome. Shopping is always cut short by the new schedule - and the mandatory now consumes me. Working in the yard used to be one of my passions, but now I have to consult the weather, the calendar of appointments, and my aging body limitations in order to schedule an afternoon of yard clean up before I can put out the Christmas lights.
I've forgotten how to schedule my ME time.
Lately (as in the last 3 years), my life has been consumed with taking care of Judy, and until July 2019 when we sold 23 Douglas, doing the necessary bills/paperwork for our father's affairs.
This past year had some major "curve balls". Just when I thought things might be finding a groove, Hanover County fucked with the program - tried to yank the rug out from under the best part of Judy's schedule - Kelly. That took months to sort out, but I did it. Then, Judy's camp trips and the paperwork and medicine requirements, obstacles. Then Judy's return from camp trip #2, the bruises and the falls at work, another snafu. "Fixing it" required a walker (Rollator) and physical therapy. To be honest, I've managed it all except for getting our eyes examined - which probably should be higher on the to-do list.
Part of the juggling also includes our brothers who are also trustees in our family trusts. They finally got their "inheritance" after the house was sold. YAY. But to fulfill our father's bequest to them, our mother's trust has been usurped. Long story short, our father's intentions (and our mother's) have been compromised, and I've spent MONTHS trying to make it right. But I can't because of ... wait for it ... the stock market and Donald Trump. (A WHOLE nother story!) I also have known for two years that the compensation for Judy's circumstance needed to be modified, and I waited until the brothers had their inheritance before I told them about the "new terms." The good news is they agreed with my terms; the bad news is I can't fix the accounting until we sell the stock.
So, I've been caught up in a financial conundrum - and can't fix it. They have NO CLUE what a mess we've created if we can't put the money back in our mother's account before the end of the year - and the taxes will be a hot mess if we don't get it sorted out.
In the meantime, it's Thanksgiving Eve's eve, and neither of our brothers have chosen to invite or include Judy and me in their plans. Freddy and Nancy are in Texas (the first time ever for Thanksgiving) and I have no idea what Phil and Jeanie are doing this week. I know that Jeanie's mom passed away two years ago en route after Thanksgiving, and she's likely struggling with her loss. But Judy and I are struggling too.
2015 I hosted Thanksgiving at the Springhouse, and it was that weekend that we learned that Dad was not well - and he never bounced back. Christmas 2015 was Dad's last Christmas at 23 Douglas. He was home for about 4 hours.
2016 Thanksgiving Dad was at the Crossings. Judy and I went to the Crossings to join him for Thanksgiving dinner, and went to Fred and Nancy's where our family was - for dessert. 2016 Christmas Phil and Jeanie were living in Dad's house. All of their children came. Nobody came to visit Dad. Judy and I dropped in - to schedule Christmas Monday at the Springhouse.
2017 and 2018 our friends Diane and John Fairburn invited us to join their family Thanksgiving. Judy and I spent Christmas 2017 and 2018 alone. We met at Pasta House for dinner 2017 after Christmas; 2018 Tres came by the Springhouse while he was in Richmond; we met Phil, Jeanie, Liz, Eric and the girls at Cracker Barrel the week after. Never saw F and N.
2019 Cindy and Mo, our neighbors who have put wreaths on our parents' grave in Arlington invited us to join them.
So. Holidays aren't such a big deal with our family anymore.
Used to be so easy to juggle a full time job, shopping, decorating, planning for both my house and my family's house. Even as our parents' health declined, I still managed to get it all done - and more importantly, joyfully so.
Not anymore.
As selfish as it sounds, I was accustomed to living alone, and my evenings and weekends were my own to do what I chose. If I wanted to pile up presents in the dining room or in the guest room, or drag all the wrappings to the living room and create a disaster for a week or more, or more than likely NOT cook dinner and just pick up something or meet friends for dinner then slip in some shopping after work, or start dragging out the Christmas stuff bit by bit and leave it scattered about in the hallways - I could just do whatever, whenever. There was nobody else to consider when I left work at 6:30 (or later).
Not anymore.
Now my days/free hours are sandwiched between 8 am and 4 pm - when I used to go to work during those hours and the rest was mine to schedule for ME time. Even the days that I stayed late at work, which admittedly I did Monday - Thursday (and once a month forfeited a Saturday for a "workday"), at the end of every day I had ME time.
Not anymore.
I feel suffocated by the daily grind now. Cooking is a chore. Keeping the pantry staples stocked for another person is burdensome. Shopping is always cut short by the new schedule - and the mandatory now consumes me. Working in the yard used to be one of my passions, but now I have to consult the weather, the calendar of appointments, and my aging body limitations in order to schedule an afternoon of yard clean up before I can put out the Christmas lights.
I've forgotten how to schedule my ME time.
Lately (as in the last 3 years), my life has been consumed with taking care of Judy, and until July 2019 when we sold 23 Douglas, doing the necessary bills/paperwork for our father's affairs.
This past year had some major "curve balls". Just when I thought things might be finding a groove, Hanover County fucked with the program - tried to yank the rug out from under the best part of Judy's schedule - Kelly. That took months to sort out, but I did it. Then, Judy's camp trips and the paperwork and medicine requirements, obstacles. Then Judy's return from camp trip #2, the bruises and the falls at work, another snafu. "Fixing it" required a walker (Rollator) and physical therapy. To be honest, I've managed it all except for getting our eyes examined - which probably should be higher on the to-do list.
Part of the juggling also includes our brothers who are also trustees in our family trusts. They finally got their "inheritance" after the house was sold. YAY. But to fulfill our father's bequest to them, our mother's trust has been usurped. Long story short, our father's intentions (and our mother's) have been compromised, and I've spent MONTHS trying to make it right. But I can't because of ... wait for it ... the stock market and Donald Trump. (A WHOLE nother story!) I also have known for two years that the compensation for Judy's circumstance needed to be modified, and I waited until the brothers had their inheritance before I told them about the "new terms." The good news is they agreed with my terms; the bad news is I can't fix the accounting until we sell the stock.
So, I've been caught up in a financial conundrum - and can't fix it. They have NO CLUE what a mess we've created if we can't put the money back in our mother's account before the end of the year - and the taxes will be a hot mess if we don't get it sorted out.
In the meantime, it's Thanksgiving Eve's eve, and neither of our brothers have chosen to invite or include Judy and me in their plans. Freddy and Nancy are in Texas (the first time ever for Thanksgiving) and I have no idea what Phil and Jeanie are doing this week. I know that Jeanie's mom passed away two years ago en route after Thanksgiving, and she's likely struggling with her loss. But Judy and I are struggling too.
2015 I hosted Thanksgiving at the Springhouse, and it was that weekend that we learned that Dad was not well - and he never bounced back. Christmas 2015 was Dad's last Christmas at 23 Douglas. He was home for about 4 hours.
2016 Thanksgiving Dad was at the Crossings. Judy and I went to the Crossings to join him for Thanksgiving dinner, and went to Fred and Nancy's where our family was - for dessert. 2016 Christmas Phil and Jeanie were living in Dad's house. All of their children came. Nobody came to visit Dad. Judy and I dropped in - to schedule Christmas Monday at the Springhouse.
2017 and 2018 our friends Diane and John Fairburn invited us to join their family Thanksgiving. Judy and I spent Christmas 2017 and 2018 alone. We met at Pasta House for dinner 2017 after Christmas; 2018 Tres came by the Springhouse while he was in Richmond; we met Phil, Jeanie, Liz, Eric and the girls at Cracker Barrel the week after. Never saw F and N.
2019 Cindy and Mo, our neighbors who have put wreaths on our parents' grave in Arlington invited us to join them.
So. Holidays aren't such a big deal with our family anymore.
Monday, October 21, 2019
Being 64 and my new normal
In less than one year, I will be on Medicare. I'm not sure exactly what that means except I think I will be paying less out of pocket for my health care insurance. I think I get to keep my GP, but I'll be paying for the "20% supplemental" insurance when purportedly, Medicare pays for 80%.
In the meantime, not long after my 64th birthday, I was summoned to "the principal's office" (Judy's workshop director) to have a meeting to discuss Judy's frequent falls. "We can't guarantee her safety, so you have to 'do something'. She can't keep coming to the Program if we can't ensure her safety."
So I co-mingle these two topics because normally, on or around my birthday (as I do on or around Judy's birthday), I schedule all the physical appointments: blood work, physical exam, mammogram, OBGYN, colonoscopy, etc. But this year, I didn't get to schedule MY appointments because I had to schedule appointments for Judy to be evaluated for frequent falls. The diagnosis for Judy was 1. the need for a walker, and 2. physical therapy for her to learn how to use the walker and learn strengthening exercises so she would not fall. So for the last 4 weeks, Judy has been going to physical therapy twice a week. With her walker. Fortunately, I was able to schedule the appointments on Mondays and Wednesdays and Kelly was willing to take her. Thank the LORD!
In addition to the physical therapy and walker, we had to address Judy's wardrobe. Judy has adopted a skirts and stockings attire, which she has worn for most of her adult life. Frequent falls and skirts with stockings doesn't quite work in a day program setting, nor for physical therapy. For the last 6 weeks or so, it's been a daily struggle (shouting match, aggravatingly miserable conversation) with my special needs sister about what she is wearing to her workshop each day. Oh, God.
Kelly took her shopping for leggings, I bought her some, but she HATES it. Before the weather changed (from HOT to cool), she acquiesced to wearing shorts for her two days of physical therapy, and "skorts" the rest of the week. Now that fall has set in, and cooler temperatures, she needs to wear slacks and she just not on board with the program.
"I 70 years old. I pick my own clothes" she told me last week.
"Okay. But if you are not appropriately dressed in the morning, then you are NOT going to the workshop and you will have to spend the day in your own room, Judy." And I suggested 2 or 3 outfits she could wear.
That did NOT go over very well. But, the next morning she had on an appropriate outfit (very cute, I might add), and everybody at the Program thought she looked darling and ooooh'd and aaaahhh'd over her outfit, but she was still pissed. This is now a daily occurrence.
So that's my new normal.
I haven't scheduled my own doctor appointments, and I dread hearing the phone ring. The only thing I could do was go outside and pull weeds. Did not require thinking - but I did feel somewhat accomplished at the end of each day. The result: I've wrenched my back out. Several days I likely was dehydrated from staying outside in the heat too long.
The stress has taken over control of my back, my neck, my vision, and my overall attitude. My new housekeeper told me one of her other clients is a professional organizer. Really? So she came last week, sent me her "quote" and is coming tomorrow to help me.
My whole world (my house inside and out) has been upside down for months, and when I woke up this morning, I decided I've had enough. I love my sister, but her happiness is not my only mission. I can't take care of her if I don't take care of myself and our world.
Today I saw a chiropractor and began my new wellness program. And tomorrow, I have a professional organizer coming to help me get my house in order.
So there you have it.
I know what needs to be done, but for the life of me, I just can't do it by myself anymore. So much for being 64.
In the meantime, not long after my 64th birthday, I was summoned to "the principal's office" (Judy's workshop director) to have a meeting to discuss Judy's frequent falls. "We can't guarantee her safety, so you have to 'do something'. She can't keep coming to the Program if we can't ensure her safety."
So I co-mingle these two topics because normally, on or around my birthday (as I do on or around Judy's birthday), I schedule all the physical appointments: blood work, physical exam, mammogram, OBGYN, colonoscopy, etc. But this year, I didn't get to schedule MY appointments because I had to schedule appointments for Judy to be evaluated for frequent falls. The diagnosis for Judy was 1. the need for a walker, and 2. physical therapy for her to learn how to use the walker and learn strengthening exercises so she would not fall. So for the last 4 weeks, Judy has been going to physical therapy twice a week. With her walker. Fortunately, I was able to schedule the appointments on Mondays and Wednesdays and Kelly was willing to take her. Thank the LORD!
In addition to the physical therapy and walker, we had to address Judy's wardrobe. Judy has adopted a skirts and stockings attire, which she has worn for most of her adult life. Frequent falls and skirts with stockings doesn't quite work in a day program setting, nor for physical therapy. For the last 6 weeks or so, it's been a daily struggle (shouting match, aggravatingly miserable conversation) with my special needs sister about what she is wearing to her workshop each day. Oh, God.
Kelly took her shopping for leggings, I bought her some, but she HATES it. Before the weather changed (from HOT to cool), she acquiesced to wearing shorts for her two days of physical therapy, and "skorts" the rest of the week. Now that fall has set in, and cooler temperatures, she needs to wear slacks and she just not on board with the program.
"I 70 years old. I pick my own clothes" she told me last week.
"Okay. But if you are not appropriately dressed in the morning, then you are NOT going to the workshop and you will have to spend the day in your own room, Judy." And I suggested 2 or 3 outfits she could wear.
That did NOT go over very well. But, the next morning she had on an appropriate outfit (very cute, I might add), and everybody at the Program thought she looked darling and ooooh'd and aaaahhh'd over her outfit, but she was still pissed. This is now a daily occurrence.
So that's my new normal.
I haven't scheduled my own doctor appointments, and I dread hearing the phone ring. The only thing I could do was go outside and pull weeds. Did not require thinking - but I did feel somewhat accomplished at the end of each day. The result: I've wrenched my back out. Several days I likely was dehydrated from staying outside in the heat too long.
The stress has taken over control of my back, my neck, my vision, and my overall attitude. My new housekeeper told me one of her other clients is a professional organizer. Really? So she came last week, sent me her "quote" and is coming tomorrow to help me.
My whole world (my house inside and out) has been upside down for months, and when I woke up this morning, I decided I've had enough. I love my sister, but her happiness is not my only mission. I can't take care of her if I don't take care of myself and our world.
Today I saw a chiropractor and began my new wellness program. And tomorrow, I have a professional organizer coming to help me get my house in order.
So there you have it.
I know what needs to be done, but for the life of me, I just can't do it by myself anymore. So much for being 64.
Sunday, July 7, 2019
The "Help" ...
I've had this housekeeper for over two years, and I really REALLY like her.
She's dependable, hard working, cute as can be, a mom to two sons who sound like angels, and she allows their father to live with them because ... I'm not sure why, but because her boys need their father, I presume. But now that her oldest son has graduated high school, she's decided to pull the plug, live on her own with her youngest son, and set boundaries for herself. I've offered her moving boxes, and "if you need some furniture, I have extra stuff, Cyndi!"
I thought we had a good rapport.
So, two Thursdays ago - June 27 - Cyndi, our housekeeper blew in like a bat out of hell at her 9 am start time, hauled in her cleaning supplies and vacuum cleaner and went right to work in Judy's room.
What was unusual was we usually chatted for 10-20 minutes about her last two weeks, my last two weeks, how things were going.
Not this day.
She clinked and clanked her way through Judy's room. Then our powder room, the foyer, the dining room, and bam, deposited her supplies in front of my room (on the opposite side of the first floor). What normally takes her about an hour was less than 30 minutes.
I noticed that she was wearing different braces on both her wrists - she has carpel tunnel issues (for which months ago I gave her a pair of large rubber gloves that she could wear over her braces) - I asked if the house was cool enough "It's kinda warm" so I lowered the temp on the AC.
"Is everything okay?" I asked. "Have you found a place to move to? How did George's grades turn out?" (George is her youngest son. I knew he had been struggling in math and she was worried about his grades at the end of the school year. She then told me about an appointment with counseling and that they had evaluated his skills ... brought in the dozen pages of reports/paperwork for me to read). We discussed his upcoming school year and I made suggestions how he could be more successful.
The last time she cleaned for me was the last day of school. "I need to leave a little early" she told me the previous time she was here, so she could pick up her son from school. "Not a problem. Thanks for letting me know." (As it so happened, she arranged for her older son to pick up his brother, but I still let her go early.)
Back to June 27.
As per our "normal" schedule, I did the laundry - Judy's sheets and towels, then mine. When Judy's were done, Cyndi would make Judy's bed and finish her bathroom setup; I would finish the laundry around 12:30 or so, and put my clean linens out.
At 11:50, Cyndi was "finished." Laundry was not finished.
Our original "verbal contract" was six hours, $15 an hour. Arrive at 9 am, leave by 3 pm. Most days she was finished before 2 - not problem. Always asked if I needed her to do anything else, and sometimes I did, but mostly not.
Since January 2019, she's mostly been done by 1:30, which was fine. Cyndi was worth the money and I welcomed the extra downtime.
But on this day, Cyndi clearly had a different agenda when she arrived, and rather than discuss it with me, she blew into my house like a tank. I knew immediately something was "wrong" - and about every 20 minutes or so, I opened the window of discussion, but she didn't bite.
I wrote her check for the $90 (for six hours @ $15 per), but before she left, I asked her to talk to me. "We need to have a conversation about this," I said.
"I've picked up four more houses to clean," she said. "I don't have time to talk - I have another house to clean and I need to be there by 12:30."
I get it. She has made up her mind to be independent from her husband and she needs more money. But ...
As an employer, am I wrong for wondering what is her expectation and didn't she need to discuss it with me before she changed her schedule without so much as a conversation about it?
She's worth EVERY PENNY. But why wouldn't she talk to me about it?
She's dependable, hard working, cute as can be, a mom to two sons who sound like angels, and she allows their father to live with them because ... I'm not sure why, but because her boys need their father, I presume. But now that her oldest son has graduated high school, she's decided to pull the plug, live on her own with her youngest son, and set boundaries for herself. I've offered her moving boxes, and "if you need some furniture, I have extra stuff, Cyndi!"
I thought we had a good rapport.
So, two Thursdays ago - June 27 - Cyndi, our housekeeper blew in like a bat out of hell at her 9 am start time, hauled in her cleaning supplies and vacuum cleaner and went right to work in Judy's room.
What was unusual was we usually chatted for 10-20 minutes about her last two weeks, my last two weeks, how things were going.
Not this day.
She clinked and clanked her way through Judy's room. Then our powder room, the foyer, the dining room, and bam, deposited her supplies in front of my room (on the opposite side of the first floor). What normally takes her about an hour was less than 30 minutes.
I noticed that she was wearing different braces on both her wrists - she has carpel tunnel issues (for which months ago I gave her a pair of large rubber gloves that she could wear over her braces) - I asked if the house was cool enough "It's kinda warm" so I lowered the temp on the AC.
"Is everything okay?" I asked. "Have you found a place to move to? How did George's grades turn out?" (George is her youngest son. I knew he had been struggling in math and she was worried about his grades at the end of the school year. She then told me about an appointment with counseling and that they had evaluated his skills ... brought in the dozen pages of reports/paperwork for me to read). We discussed his upcoming school year and I made suggestions how he could be more successful.
The last time she cleaned for me was the last day of school. "I need to leave a little early" she told me the previous time she was here, so she could pick up her son from school. "Not a problem. Thanks for letting me know." (As it so happened, she arranged for her older son to pick up his brother, but I still let her go early.)
Back to June 27.
As per our "normal" schedule, I did the laundry - Judy's sheets and towels, then mine. When Judy's were done, Cyndi would make Judy's bed and finish her bathroom setup; I would finish the laundry around 12:30 or so, and put my clean linens out.
At 11:50, Cyndi was "finished." Laundry was not finished.
Our original "verbal contract" was six hours, $15 an hour. Arrive at 9 am, leave by 3 pm. Most days she was finished before 2 - not problem. Always asked if I needed her to do anything else, and sometimes I did, but mostly not.
Since January 2019, she's mostly been done by 1:30, which was fine. Cyndi was worth the money and I welcomed the extra downtime.
But on this day, Cyndi clearly had a different agenda when she arrived, and rather than discuss it with me, she blew into my house like a tank. I knew immediately something was "wrong" - and about every 20 minutes or so, I opened the window of discussion, but she didn't bite.
I wrote her check for the $90 (for six hours @ $15 per), but before she left, I asked her to talk to me. "We need to have a conversation about this," I said.
"I've picked up four more houses to clean," she said. "I don't have time to talk - I have another house to clean and I need to be there by 12:30."
I get it. She has made up her mind to be independent from her husband and she needs more money. But ...
As an employer, am I wrong for wondering what is her expectation and didn't she need to discuss it with me before she changed her schedule without so much as a conversation about it?
She's worth EVERY PENNY. But why wouldn't she talk to me about it?
Sunday, June 30, 2019
Night to Shine 2019
February 8, 2019
How does one describe the efforts and effects of literally 1000s of people to make each and every "guest" feel so special, like they are the only "guest of honor" in the room?
That is what they did and how RVA's Night to Shine succeeded beyond measure.
How does one describe the efforts and effects of literally 1000s of people to make each and every "guest" feel so special, like they are the only "guest of honor" in the room?
That is what they did and how RVA's Night to Shine succeeded beyond measure.
Birthdays, Funerals, and one's Inheritance
I feel a need to rant.
I understand the need to attend a funeral to pay one's respects - both to the deceased and to the living with whom we feel close. Absolutely.
But when one's special needs SISTER is turning 70 (a date you've known ALL of HER life and you've known for two weeks that her birthday party was on 1/18/19), there needs to be some thoughtful decision-making consideration going on in one's BRAIN. aka "Our sister is still alive and her birthday party starts at 6 pm so we need to be there for her because she is expecting us." Makes sense to me. (But since she's retarded, she will never know we are late. Right? No. Not right. This thinking about the sister you clearly do not know very well. Her life evolves around calendars and clocks.)
I get that your friend (or should I say your son's friend's dad) passed away. I do.
But in the big scheme of things - as in LIFE ...
Oh, what the hell. You know what I'm talking about, so I'm not going to pussy-foot around. What the fuck were you thinking? Oh, that's right. You weren't because you never do. If you were, it wasn't about your LIVING special needs sister - whose LIFE is connected to your future inheritance because our parents left everything to her. No, it was the perception of your son's friend's family whose father passed away. Process that for a minute. For a dead man's family you were late and ignored your living sister.
So you know, Judy noticed. Her feelings were hurt because you were late. Once you arrived, you pretty much ignored her, spending most of your time talking to Dr. Dan and Rebecca. She had looked forward to introducing you to her counselor and all of her friends, but you weren't there at 6 pm, or 6:15, or 6:30, and it was time to sit down and order drinks and dinner.
In true Ginny Howland form, Judy thanked you for your gift to her - a beautiful CZ pendant (without a necklace - and of course she started thinking about how she could wear it). So thoughtful of you - to give her a gift that I would be tasked with how she could put it to use. Very thoughtful. Thank you for that.
....
In 2002, our parents made a special trip to my house in Kings Charter to deliver their wills, trusts, and to explain their intentions upon their passing.
"No! Please don't do this!" I begged them not to do what they were doing. THREE trustees. Please DON'T.
But they did.
For Judy's sake, they were wise. Because they knew I would make sure their wishes were fulfilled. I will - and I am.
But you two - and your wives - are out of the loop. You are clueless how hard it is to manage her life and your "votes" as they pertain to our parents' affairs.
So many mistakes, so little time. And when OUR time comes, I hope and pray your children are better at this than we are.
I understand the need to attend a funeral to pay one's respects - both to the deceased and to the living with whom we feel close. Absolutely.
But when one's special needs SISTER is turning 70 (a date you've known ALL of HER life and you've known for two weeks that her birthday party was on 1/18/19), there needs to be some thoughtful decision-making consideration going on in one's BRAIN. aka "Our sister is still alive and her birthday party starts at 6 pm so we need to be there for her because she is expecting us." Makes sense to me. (But since she's retarded, she will never know we are late. Right? No. Not right. This thinking about the sister you clearly do not know very well. Her life evolves around calendars and clocks.)
I get that your friend (or should I say your son's friend's dad) passed away. I do.
But in the big scheme of things - as in LIFE ...
Oh, what the hell. You know what I'm talking about, so I'm not going to pussy-foot around. What the fuck were you thinking? Oh, that's right. You weren't because you never do. If you were, it wasn't about your LIVING special needs sister - whose LIFE is connected to your future inheritance because our parents left everything to her. No, it was the perception of your son's friend's family whose father passed away. Process that for a minute. For a dead man's family you were late and ignored your living sister.
So you know, Judy noticed. Her feelings were hurt because you were late. Once you arrived, you pretty much ignored her, spending most of your time talking to Dr. Dan and Rebecca. She had looked forward to introducing you to her counselor and all of her friends, but you weren't there at 6 pm, or 6:15, or 6:30, and it was time to sit down and order drinks and dinner.
In true Ginny Howland form, Judy thanked you for your gift to her - a beautiful CZ pendant (without a necklace - and of course she started thinking about how she could wear it). So thoughtful of you - to give her a gift that I would be tasked with how she could put it to use. Very thoughtful. Thank you for that.
....
In 2002, our parents made a special trip to my house in Kings Charter to deliver their wills, trusts, and to explain their intentions upon their passing.
"No! Please don't do this!" I begged them not to do what they were doing. THREE trustees. Please DON'T.
But they did.
For Judy's sake, they were wise. Because they knew I would make sure their wishes were fulfilled. I will - and I am.
But you two - and your wives - are out of the loop. You are clueless how hard it is to manage her life and your "votes" as they pertain to our parents' affairs.
So many mistakes, so little time. And when OUR time comes, I hope and pray your children are better at this than we are.
Storage: AKA finding a home for the stuff
It's New Year's Eve 2018, and I've had just about enough of all the clutter in my life.
Made up my mind I have to get a handle on all the stuff, so I did the inventory.
46 boxes of stuff (from my parents' house in the garage).
6 boxes of paper (from my dad's filing cabinets in my office).
5 boxes of pictures (from my KC house that I've never hung).
7 boxes of silver (from my mom's dining room).
4 upstairs closets filled with boxes and fabric, curtains, tablecloths, nicknacks from the KC house.
And the attic. Can't even get in there without banging my head every time I go in there.
And six filing cabinets - 3 in the garage (filled with school treasures; 3 in the office with a business long gone.)
Then there's the furniture - 1/2 of which Diane and John took to stage their "fixer upper" house. That will be returning at some time in the not too distant future.
And that doesn't even count the excessive pieces of clothing in my room, Judy's room, and three coat closets.
Enough is enough.
Time to find a new home for all the stuff. And it doesn't necessarily have to be here. (Donations, yard sales, re-gifting and trashing are all a part of the master plan.)
Truth is, Judy will be 70 in just a few weeks, and I am 63. We won't live forever, and all this stuff is weighing us down.
I know what is here, I just can't put my hands on it when I want it. And I do want to see what we have so I can put it to good use.
Everything needs a home. Where I can find it. When I want it.
So ...
Here's the beginning of the plan:
1. Install shelving in the 4 upstairs closets.
2. Unpack the boxes so I can see the stuff.
3. Make room for the pictures/frames so I know what I have. (Move the pictures from my office so I can get to the filing cabinets and actually use them!)
4. Cull my old stuff and either trash, donate or sell what I will never use again.
Make a home for all of Mom and Dad's stuff:
5. Move the banquet tables from the garage to "bedroom 4."
6. Get all the boxes out of the garage into BR 4.
(Ultimately, I'd like to have a wall of built-in cabinets with doors so I can see the contents of the boxes).
In a perfect world, each season would have a "home." All the Christmas would be in one place, the fall stuff, Easter, Valentine's, 4th of July ... you get the picture.
I used to have my house set up that way, but I never had the time to do that once I retired.
What went wrong? Well ... Long story but here's the short version:
Mom died. Dad started pressing me to find a "better house" for me and Judy. We needed "one level living" because of her bad knees and my hip going out. I found the Springhouse. We amended it so Judy would have the space she needed, and I would have mine. That was the easy part.
Then I had two houses of my own (for a short period of time) and Dad and Judy's lives in Newport News to attend to. Every day was a "mission." I juggled letting go of my organized home of 27 years, planning a home for me and Judy, and taking care of them. And I had Dad to bounce ideas off of while I planned and continued with the mission.
Then Dad got sick. And the ONE person I had to help guide me was no longer guiding me.
I never factored in his absence from my life in the plan.
Yes. I knew the plan all along - but I never thought I would be completely alone managing everything day-to-day.
I never knew caring for my father's affairs (his health, his mental wellness, his daily needs, his finances, his home) would be so hard.
I knew I would have Judy living with me. And I know what she needs to make her life work - but I didn't know that the federal government would make the transition so hard.
And I didn't expect our brothers (and their 7 adult children) to abandon us. Especially Freddy. (To be fair, Phil stepped up to the plate and took care of 23 Douglas, for the most part).
When I think of who our parents were and all they did in their lives - particularly, for our sister and for US - their children, I know how they raised us to "do the right thing" - every time.
I know my WORDS have been hurtful to my brothers and to their children. But I have spoken the truths my parents never did.
In the meantime, I will do what I must to make our lives better. Finding a home for all this stuff. Even the things we have no use for - like abandonment.
Made up my mind I have to get a handle on all the stuff, so I did the inventory.
46 boxes of stuff (from my parents' house in the garage).
6 boxes of paper (from my dad's filing cabinets in my office).
5 boxes of pictures (from my KC house that I've never hung).
7 boxes of silver (from my mom's dining room).
4 upstairs closets filled with boxes and fabric, curtains, tablecloths, nicknacks from the KC house.
And the attic. Can't even get in there without banging my head every time I go in there.
And six filing cabinets - 3 in the garage (filled with school treasures; 3 in the office with a business long gone.)
Then there's the furniture - 1/2 of which Diane and John took to stage their "fixer upper" house. That will be returning at some time in the not too distant future.
And that doesn't even count the excessive pieces of clothing in my room, Judy's room, and three coat closets.
Enough is enough.
Time to find a new home for all the stuff. And it doesn't necessarily have to be here. (Donations, yard sales, re-gifting and trashing are all a part of the master plan.)
Truth is, Judy will be 70 in just a few weeks, and I am 63. We won't live forever, and all this stuff is weighing us down.
I know what is here, I just can't put my hands on it when I want it. And I do want to see what we have so I can put it to good use.
Everything needs a home. Where I can find it. When I want it.
So ...
Here's the beginning of the plan:
1. Install shelving in the 4 upstairs closets.
2. Unpack the boxes so I can see the stuff.
3. Make room for the pictures/frames so I know what I have. (Move the pictures from my office so I can get to the filing cabinets and actually use them!)
4. Cull my old stuff and either trash, donate or sell what I will never use again.
Make a home for all of Mom and Dad's stuff:
5. Move the banquet tables from the garage to "bedroom 4."
6. Get all the boxes out of the garage into BR 4.
(Ultimately, I'd like to have a wall of built-in cabinets with doors so I can see the contents of the boxes).
In a perfect world, each season would have a "home." All the Christmas would be in one place, the fall stuff, Easter, Valentine's, 4th of July ... you get the picture.
I used to have my house set up that way, but I never had the time to do that once I retired.
What went wrong? Well ... Long story but here's the short version:
Mom died. Dad started pressing me to find a "better house" for me and Judy. We needed "one level living" because of her bad knees and my hip going out. I found the Springhouse. We amended it so Judy would have the space she needed, and I would have mine. That was the easy part.
Then I had two houses of my own (for a short period of time) and Dad and Judy's lives in Newport News to attend to. Every day was a "mission." I juggled letting go of my organized home of 27 years, planning a home for me and Judy, and taking care of them. And I had Dad to bounce ideas off of while I planned and continued with the mission.
Then Dad got sick. And the ONE person I had to help guide me was no longer guiding me.
I never factored in his absence from my life in the plan.
Yes. I knew the plan all along - but I never thought I would be completely alone managing everything day-to-day.
I never knew caring for my father's affairs (his health, his mental wellness, his daily needs, his finances, his home) would be so hard.
I knew I would have Judy living with me. And I know what she needs to make her life work - but I didn't know that the federal government would make the transition so hard.
And I didn't expect our brothers (and their 7 adult children) to abandon us. Especially Freddy. (To be fair, Phil stepped up to the plate and took care of 23 Douglas, for the most part).
When I think of who our parents were and all they did in their lives - particularly, for our sister and for US - their children, I know how they raised us to "do the right thing" - every time.
I know my WORDS have been hurtful to my brothers and to their children. But I have spoken the truths my parents never did.
In the meantime, I will do what I must to make our lives better. Finding a home for all this stuff. Even the things we have no use for - like abandonment.
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