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.
I am glad her struggle is over.
And thinking of you.
A blessing for your beloved Mum.
You are in my thoughts today.
Thanks to your and Doc Marvin's care, and maybe some staff, she did pretty well. It has been a shocker of a year for deaths for us and although we didn't meet your mum, I feel like I knew her a little. Our sincere condolences. XX
I read your title and knew right away your mum had died, I had to go and wash the dishes before I could read because I cried a little. it's surprising how much she managed to gather while being there, 15 pairs of scissors? I can understand the DVDs and CDs, but not the scissors.
I don't think putting lights on the cat is a great idea, but punching your sister, even virtually, is a good idea.
I hope you remember where you stashed the pies, I did something a little different this year, added cinnamon to the pastry, let me know if they're okay like that.
Doc Marvin deserves a Christmas gift for all the help and care he gave.
I've just seen this and it gave me a shock. Say what you like, I'm sorry mother is gone. She was from times more decent. Those times only exist now in places like Ballarat.
Never mind, I'll still be banging out tunes for her. (Late at night, of course.)
I can't wish you a merry xmas, but I do for everyone else, including the latte set.
I'm more tolerant of them now, having sold them my house for a million bucks.
El Chi, it really was a blessing for her, the struggle just went on and on. The funeral won't be until after Boxing Day, apparently it's a bit busy at this time of the year but I'm pleased, I need a rest.
Thank you Cheryl G, but she's still annoying me. For days I've heard a beep beep and looked everywhere in case an animal had crawled in. I brought her mobile phone home in my bag and the battery was running low, beep beep.
River, the cat is not talking to me because I've been gone too long. The secret ingredient was delicious, of course they didn't last until Christmas. Now they don't work with coffe, it must be tea and the cream must be thick.
Robbert, it was awful to see her shaking with fright and struggling to breathe. She kept asking me how long did she have to wait, well I told her it was her journey and she could get off the bus anytime she liked.
I hope you like the music, arriving at the Chapel, Shubert Serenade, for the slide show, Kate Smith singing "I'll be loving you, always", the first song she and dad danced to and when the hearse leaves and everyone is encourage to stand outside to say goodbye, it will be Mozart's Ave Verum Corpis sung by Andrea Boccelli.
She'll appreciate you banging that out and on a baby grand piano bought with your million bucks.
Andrew, you have to be careful, you're of that age now. And write out your funeral for goodness sake, what a monster of details. Even paid for, there are still costs and in the finish, I just said do the most beautiful and send an invoice. Worked out well Sister moving to Yeppoon, hard to annoy me on the phone. I'm waiting now for Mercy Health coughing up a refund since she didn't make it to the end of December.
River, something else I did, I engaged a lady Celebrant who knew the era mum lived in.
Willie Nelson does a good version of Always. I know the words, and the words of many other songs my daddy sang, face screwed up in concentration. He actually believed he was a good singer. I'm not sorry he's gone, drunken old bastard.
The latte suckers who bought my joint got a rotted subfloor and tiles that come off the roof in the slightest breeze. What idiots. I feel a bit guilty about it but it's not my fault. They're a hypnotised group, suckered by the shyster times we live in. I mean "Lifestyle", a term created by estate agents.
On the final inspection hubby had to skedaddle back to work. So me and blondie went back inside for another looksee. I experienced the fantasy to grab her and throw her down. It was a possibility; she would have known.
Don't be alarmed, I'm only here for Christmas, and for mother.
Robbert, I would have loved that ladder considering my books are up to the ceiling.
The Celebrant said my family was crazy and I should write a book about them which means I'd have to adopt you unless you are writing your own book. So many blogs, so many RH blog fights, all hilarious and now all we have is moronic facebook.
I wouldn't call myself "latte set" but if you look at my 'want' house a few posts back I would be called Gold Rush Posh. I love wrought iron lace, so did Mother and spent a fortune on it renovating the house.
Dear JahTeh...I've been searching for the words but all that comes out is "Dear God, have mercy on us all." My mother and father took too many years to die. I'm familiar with the journey your mum just completed. And, yes, because of this I've got my "final arrangements" finalized. Wise advice.
I do not discount anyone's account of "odd occurences" following a death. Too many sane and usually sober friends have reported them. Nor am I surprised by the outrageous and unhelpful remarks and behavior of relatives -- but your sister has outdone herself. Again, "God, have mercy on us all."
Beth, Mum's twin sister has outdone my sister by ringing Christmas morning and demanding that her eulogy be read out. I've been in touch with the celebrant and said to dump the whole lot or pick one and only one sentence. Everything is timed so it all runs smoothly but would she believe me, no so watch out for a mushroom cloud over Melbourne.
I built book shelves to ceiling height in Newport, that's why I had the ladder. Never underestimate the money hunger of the latte set. it's hammered into them as children.
Municipal councils and shires tore down wrought iron when they demolished shop verandas, especially in country towns. What idiots. The current prime minister has the perfect appearance of a country town mayor. I don't think he'll last long.
I don't know what you mean about adopting me, but you are free to use anything I've put on your blog, I owe you that as a minimum. Your own writing has a subtle wit, consistent and rock solid. I don't know if it comes easy to you. I suspect it does.
Came over from Andrew's blog. My condolences on the loss of your Mother.
My sincere condolence dear Coppy.
You were wonderful for every minute of the last decade and deserve a massive renewal in 2019.
Sami, Up to two months ago she was still making a few cards then she just stopped. She was ready to go, it just took longer than she thought and more uncomfortable.
Annie O, it's still going on. I haven't been dressed since the funeral and I was going to make the roses into bunches and take them to the cemetary but I suddenly hit a brick wall. Didn't want to eat, hated the expensive chocolates, the possums are enjoying the fruit cake and the stupid Bear nearly had a heart attack on NYE when he went out just before the fireworks, that'll learn him to come in when I say so.
Hi Witchy, I've been reading your blog off and on and trying to leave a comment to say hi but have had problems with the Blogger comments and how the blog's configured. Here goes with another try.
I hadn't read about your mum's death, so, all love to you for that difficult time and agree that her passing was not sad but an end to a long struggle.
In October 17 the struggle began with my mum having a serious stroke. Now my life is like yours, to and fro from the care home, although I'm not as good as you were because of work, but luckily there are others to share visits.
She wanted to go before she had the stroke, now she's incapacitated, refusing food and as daft as they come, but she could live like this for years.
I hope that you now have the time and space to blossom and do things for yourself rather than always for others. Love, Helen Balcony
Well whaddayaknow! It worked :D
I haven't seen mine since 2014. I don't miss her. I hope if you miss your's then not too much. I find the dead, (and the absent from our lives) are much better behaved and they are 'there' when we want them to be, when we think of them. (not very often in my case).
You are a better daughter than I; mine is in a nursing home, my sister visits fortnightly and rings her every friggin day. WT?? Apparently she broke her hip a couple of months ago.
I think our feelings of indifference towards one another are pretty mutual and always have been. On reflection, I wonder whether I'll make it her funeral, when the time comes. Maybe it will be worth it to look daggers at the BIL and meet my nephew for the third time. He's 19 now and looks quite a bit like me, poor sod. My sister would hate that. LOL All the best to you. JahTeh.xx
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