Accepting the Inevitable

Yesterday was one of those days that really were not too bad but nevertheless, you hope it is several decades before you have another one that is similar.



It started off with Hubby cooking breakfast. Not a bad thing, right? And it would not have been except he decided to do this at 8am. Even that does not sound bad except for the fact that neither one of us was dressed yet, the garbage still had to be loaded into the SUV to take to the recycling center, and we needed to be at my in-laws before 9:30. We had just enough time to get all this done but only if I left the kitchen a mess. Hubby is a good cook but fails miserable at cleaning up after himself. If we had just had cereal, that would have only been two bowls and spoons in the sink.



Why do we not have a garbage collection service? We could if we wanted to pay for it but we go over to my in-laws every weekend if only for an hour just the check up on them and the recycling center is on the way there. Why should we pay for someone else to do it when we can save some money by doing it ourselves and not even spend any more money on gas for the SUV? Moreover, we are trying to be community-friendly. Taking our garbage to the recycling center is one way to do that instead of it all going to a dump somewhere to be turned into landfill.



Why did we have to be at the in-laws by 9:30? My father-in-law is dieing. It could be any time now for him the leave. My mother-in-law really did not want to go by herself to make funeral arrangements and she definitely did not want to leave her husband alone while she did it. Her appointment was for 10am and Hubby, her baby boy, was going with her. I was staying at their house to take care of Hubby’s father while they were gone. Do I mind doing this? No, not at all. My in-laws are wonderful. They accepted me with no reservations when I married their baby boy and accepted my son by a previous marriage to boot. They gave us a place to stay when we first moved into the area and put up with us for over a year. On top of this, they bought our washer and dryer for us. My mom and stepfather get along fine with them, which makes things even better. Anytime they need help, I am more than willing to give whatever I can.



The day still does not sound bad, does it? Despite my dirty kitchen, it was not a bad day yet.



Shortly after my mother-in-law and Hubby left for their appointment, a neighbor called. I know Iris. She has a few issues but she is a nice woman and I usually enjoy her company. She was just doing the “good neighbor thing” checking to see if her neighbors needed anything at the store. I talked to her for a few minutes, giving her the update on my father-in-law’s health and how my mother-in-law was emotionally handling things. It was actually a nice call and it relaxed me a little. However, not even five minutes later, the phone rang again.



This is the beginning of the bad. It was my sister-in-law, Irene. We use to get along so well. Yes, I have always thought she was a little nutty but I just thought it was kind of cute. In the past ten years though, her nuttiness has gotten out of hand and I really do think she needs psychiatric help. Anymore anything that has to do with her directly is a super big deal. There is always a lot of drama in her life and everything is so important. And, of course, she or anyone in her immediate family cannot do anything wrong. She is a real trip these days. She did not start the conversation with a greeting back to me after I said hello. Her reply was, “Oh, I thought I’d be talking to Mom.” (My mother-in-law wants both of her daughter-in-laws to call her Mom so we do.)



My reply to her was, “She went to make funeral arrangements.”



Of course, she was a little surprised and asked, “Did Dad die?”



“No but it getting pretty close.”



Dead silence from Irene’s end. What else was she expecting me to say? Then she started to say, “Well, I thought . . .” Sure, I knew what she thought. She thought her husband should have gone with “Mom” to make the funeral arrangements. After all, he is the older son and, therefore, better. I just sat there waiting for her to complete her sentence (which did not happen).



She finally found her voice and started telling me about all that she had to do. Her son and daughter-in-law were in town so she just had to help her daughter-in-law take care of the kids. This is something that makes me cringe because I know that her daughter-in-law is excellent at being a mom and I know that Irene could have done a much better job of raising her own kids. She went on to say that, she had to help her daughter and son-in-law move into their townhouse. She had forgotten that she had already told me that husband had left to do that. Irene does not like driving so I do not know how she was going to help from home. I did not say a word. I just let her keep rambling on.



She finally decided that she had to get off the phone to “help” with the grandkids.



About an hour later, “Mom” and Hubby got home. Walt followed them in. And who is Walt? He lives a block away and has been helping “Mom” take care of “Dad”. He is a little dingy but he use to be a medic and is not charged “Mom” a giant fee for helping in the mornings and afternoons. Unfortunately, he’s been helping “Mom” for the past four years, which has given him the idea that he can voice his opinion about her business any time he feels like it. Yep, that’s why he was there yesterday.



“You shouldn’t let the funeral director know how much you have in insurance. He’ll try to take it from you.” He chest all puffed out. It took all my effort not to tell him to mind his business.  He went on to explain how funeral homes stiff the survivors.



Finally “Mom” said, “I already have a quote from him and I’m happy with it.”



Walt’s response, “You should have your tax person look at it before you sign anything.”



This is the same funeral director that “Mom” had for her own mother three years ago. With this being a small town, I really do doubt that this director is going to ever attempt to con her into anything she does not want. It would ruin his business in the area.



Because he has been such a help for the past  four years, I tried, very gently , to tell him that funeral director usually know more about insurance that people who do taxes. He just kept on trying to press the issue. “Mom”, Hubby, and I just ignored him.



After that, Hubby went outside to fix a gutter for “Mom”. Walt followed him out. I heaved a sigh of relief. “Mom” went into the bedroom to check on “Dad”. A minute later, she yelled out to me to get Hubby (her son). Was “Dad” leaving right now? Could be. I went outside and yelled for Hubby. Walt started to climb the steps to the porch. I told him that his mom needed him NOW. Walt continued to walk up the steps. I could stand it no longer. I yelled at Walt, “She isn’t asking for you. She’s asking for her son!” and then I went back inside. What was Walt’s problem? He was getting excessively familiar with “Mom”. He needed to pull back.



It ended up that “Dad” WAS probably trying to leave but it just was not quite time. His oldest child is on her way from up north and should be here today. “Dad” is probably waiting for her.