Flash Entries

What to Do? (ID #1690158)

What do I do? What do I do?

The options have been explained. Now it was time for a decision. Oh my God. What do I do?



I guess my head had been stuck in the sand. I didn’t realize things had really gotten that bad. I knew that every time I went to Mom’s house, there was another box sitting in the middle of the floor. I had no idea what was in all of them. I really didn’t have time to worry about it.

Now I know. Lord knows, I didn’t have any idea she had gotten this bad. She was always so organized, on top of things. Now, I just shake my head with each new box I open. How did I not see this coming? How had I been so blind?

Mom was the Director of Medical Records of a major hospital in her hay day. She’d run the department for years. As I grew up, I watched that department grow from 4 people working only one shift to three shifts with twenty people on each shift. She managed all of the growth, legal aspects of the records, the doctors and administration with ease.

Now, her house is a collection of everything she has received for the last four years. Imagine all of the emails she’s gotten for years printed out so she’ll have them. Every piece of junk mail, every credit card application, and lord help, life insurance offers for a soon to be 80 year old. What are these people thinking? What is she thinking keeping it all?

I’ve found light bulbs in boxes, with absolutely nothing in the house that they will fit. For that matter, she never had anything that they would fit in. This isn’t a little box either, it’s a 32 quart monster tote full of useless light bulbs that I’m forbidden to remove or donate to someone that could use them. I’ve found old sheets to beds long gone. They won’t fit the beds in her house now. Bless her heart; I remembered those sheets from when I lived at home over 30 years ago. I’ve found Dad’s old record collection. I know she’d love to listen to them, but I haven’t managed to clear a path to them in that closet yet. I’m working on it, but gee, what was she thinking keeping all of this stuff?

She has every tax paper ever filled out since 1953. Imagine the fire hazard that sits in her bedroom closet. But they’re all in impeccable order, until the last four years, when the filing system started to not make any sense. Last year’s tax season was a nightmare, trying to find anything that she could use for a deduction, or the important papers that H & R Block needed to fill out her claim. I should have realized then, but I didn’t have time to worry about it.

The thing that worries me the most is what she always excelled with. Before I started elementary school, before she ran Medical Records, she worked in a doctor’s office. She did the book keeping, medical records, filed all of the insurance paperwork. Anyway, she was a stickler for checkbooks. I remember getting my first checkbook. She sat down with me, told me how to fill out each line. How important the register was, how to balance my checkbook. She would be able to go back through her registers and tell you all of her tax deductions with the notations she made there. Now, her register is empty. Not one thing written down since January. Talk about being scared straight. That was the catalyst that prompted the big changes that we will have to make.

For the last three weeks, I’ve gone every day to make heads or tails out of her life. I’m making the time to see what is going on. I’ve filed, shredded, pitched and I’m done with about five of those boxes. I can walk through the den without stumping my toe. You can actually see the floor in most of the rooms. It is a start, while my husband and I discuss what we’re going to do.

We could sell her house. She could move in with us. Unfortunately, our house is smaller than hers. We still have one adult kid at home. I can’t imagine trying to fit her things into our house.

Or she could move into assisted living. I’m struggling with the financial aspects of that choice.

We could rent our house and move in with her. Unfortunately, our house needs a lot of decorative fixes before we could really rent it. Unless, maybe we could talk our son into getting a roommate or two to pay enough rent to make the house payments.

We could sell our house, get rid of our junk, and move into Mom’s house.

We could hire someone to live with her in her house, which is the option I hate.

So I’m back to the question, what do I do? None of our options are easy. None of them are ideal, but the option I’m leaning towards, my husband hates.

So honestly, tell me please, what do I do?

kph

Word Count : 839

Writer's Cramp