And you weren't talking anymore. Mum died at 2 a.m. Monday morning and I went straight down well not quite straight, I made a detour to put my teeth in, check the knickers and no one could see my nightdress under the dress.
What were the odds of getting a regular driver, one who had driven me for the last 10 years. He said he'd keep an ear out for a call from Brindisi and come to pick me up which he did.
Now there's a story that when someone close dies, they always leave a message to say they reached the other side safely. I have curtains in the kitchen on a sliding rod to fit any window, never moved in l0 years until last night when I found the sliding rod had slid out completely and half the curtains were on the floor, good one Mum. I didn't see the huge spider web until the morning, that'll get a spray later.
I think I had about an hour's sleep with the cat cuddling mummy until the phone rang. My sister trying to manage things from Yeppoon, no one is ever going to tell me what to do ever again.
Back to the Home again and packed up enough clothes and rubbish to outfit a cruise on the Titanic. One of the rules is that residents are not to have scissors, Mother had 15 pairs hidden in various places. I ended with 7 bags, 2 large and heavy and the others smaller but still heavy since I packed her photographs in between the clothes. I thoroughly object to bringing her teeth home but the funeral joint might need them.
I've left the wheelchair there after making sure they wouldn't send it to the tip but would use it for someone else. And another 35 CDs and 25 DVDs.
According to my sister my place is such a tip, another load of junk wouldn't matter. Bitch.
Nephew will ring in the morning to pick up the junk and me. He is devastated, for the last week he's called in every night, held her hand and patted her head then left.
River, your pies are well hidden until Christmas, they smell delicious.
I still have people to ring but I needed a break. Why do people want me to cry about a death I'm happy with. I've watched her struggle to breathe for the last two weeks and now she's calm and in no pain. The only crying I'll do is if I go to punch my sister and hurt my arthritic hand.
And I found out she had an admirer, a gentleman caller every Monday which I never knew about. He came in this morning, totally shocked and asked if I minded him coming to the funeral, not in the slightest. Who knew, she had secrets.
Readers of this blog might remember the hysteria about putting up the Christmas lights all over the damn house, damn I hated those bloody lights. Well all the way to the Home and it was dark but as we passed house after house, lights flickered on and off. Don't care I'm still not putting any up on this house.
I'd rather do this to the cat and treat the shredded arms later. It will give me something to do while I think about new curtains and punching my sister.
There is a Palliative team coming on Monday to install a little morphine machine somewhere on Mother. She has morphine when she needs it but it's another jab, clothes have to be moved, sheets and pillows then all has to be put back just right so it's not a quick thing.
I go down about 1, after lunch when everything is more or less done and I'm not in the way but the RN says she loves the way she settles down when I walk in the door. I don't take a book but have several magazines, reading a book seems to say I'm here but don't bother me but I can show her pretty pictures in a magazine and she enjoys that. She drops off to sleep after a while but still can't breathe very well especially when some twit puts the wrong size tube on the oxygen machine or turns it off completely when reaching for another bell. They don't get away with much, I've been there too long.
She's now finding it hard to swallow food and I had a stoush with an officious little bimbo who insisted on shoving food into her as though she was a starving baby bird. The bimbo learned to listen when she found herself on the end of a projectile vomit.
I've been taking little things home with me and she gave most of her craft cards to her sister when she came last week. And speaking of cards, I found one large one in 3 envelopes, she'd written on the front, in spidery writing, 'don't ever lose this' and when I finally opened the 3rd envelope I found a beautiful card. Thank you Annie O'Dyne, she loved that card so much she resisted the urge to cut it up and re-use it.
Weekends are always dreary at the Home so I'm having breakfast, feeding the cat and watching the news and no doubt will fall asleep in the chair and wake up in time to head out.
The cat is not speaking to me, how dare I leave him alone for weeks. So he gets an extra can of food before I leave. I thought I might have lost him last night. We had one wild clap of thunder which felt right over the house, all the lights went and I grabbed the big torch. I looked for the cat and he was flat on the floor like a Bear rug and not moving. As soon as he saw the light he was up on my knee and stayed there until all the lights came back. And then I got a look that said 'what did you do that for?' I'm glad cats can't talk, I couldn't stand the guilt.
Another update at some stage. Doc Marvin, gem, an absolute gem. I'm sorry I can't share him with the bloggers who need a doctor like him.
Mother is neither here nor there. She's seeing people in her room and she knows they're not real. I was helpful and told her not all angels wear wings for a welcoming. She is worried about me being all on my own if she dies and she asked for my permission to die.
I told her it was her journey not mine but she was terrified to let go so now she feels she has half of herself here and the other half is somewhere else. Her voice is like a whisper and she shakes. She feels better if she wakes up and I'm there because I am real.
After 4 hours of travelling, shopping, sitting and talking last Friday, I sat down to take off my shoes and woke up 2 hours later with one shoe on and the other still in my hand.
The only thing to do today to relax was wander through Pinterest, spend money and dye the snow white out of my hair. I now have my expensive Christmas chocolates, Champagne and cake.
Isn't that cat bed fabulous in the window? The IceBear is making do with my office chair and a feather cushion by the back door where he can watch birds with making an effort.
If I was dumb enough to make a window bed for him I would be the one lifting the lump up. I'd need a bigger window or a smaller cat.
And just when I'm de-cluttering, I spot this Christmas deco idea. I had little glass salt and pepper shakers for the bottoms and the silver tops would be the hats which would be great if they weren't down in the Op Shop where someone else is using this idea.
I couldn't find baubles in the colour I wanted until I was de-cluttering the make up drawer and found a bottle of Avon non shiny Cranberry nail polish. Worked a treat, one small bottle did two coats and I'm now to the stage of clear polish for snow sprinkles in a pattern. I'm sick of de-cluttering tv programmes where the house ends up looking like a shed just looking for a barn dance. At the moment I can walk through the lounge as long as I stick to the un cluttered tracks and the cat. I am firmly convince you cannot de-hoard a born hoarder. I might have lost the snowmen but I have a divine red bauble.
