Confessions of a One-Track Mind

July 25th was Kat's birthday; she would have been 68.

July 26th was my dad's birthday; he would have been 111.

I would have commemorated them on the appropriate days, but alas, The Site was FUBAR.

Happy B-day, you guys. Much love from me....


.

I busted my ass yesterday working on my living room, and my ass is feeling it today. It was totally worth it, though, when I walked out there this morning and saw my cozy living room.

( Pictures and commentary )
Meanwhile, come out and support the Cheer-Up-athon! There are a lot of day-brighteners up there. The lovely and sympatico karaokegal gifted me with a gem of a drabble for Black Sheep Squadron, and upbeat contributions are always welcome! Feel free to pimp, too.

One of the beneficial side-effects of the call center job (aside from the upgrading of my wardrobe) was getting over my Fear. When I started, I got physically nauseous when I thought about the commute. I'd start getting queasy about noon when I had to go in, and I'd go out into the parking lot at 11:40 (after a quick use of the restroom) and hyperventilate. Gradually, that wore off. There were occasional close calls, but after going back and forth for months on end, in all kinds of weather, the terror eventually left me. Churchill was right; now, from a distance, I remember how paralyzing the fear was, how every car that whooshed past me made me catch my breath, how sure I was that every car I saw was being driven by some reckless idiot who was going to try to kill me. I remember it---distantly. I don't feel it anymore.

All good things must come to an end. I didn't particularly want my job to come to an end---it was the best phone job I've had---but they decided to persecute me for my handle time, saying I needed to have a shorter call time. Never mind that my sales numbers were excellent, or that I regularly got customer compliments. Nope, handle time was too high, bye-bye.

The timing was good, I have to say that, because within a matter of weeks, GK and I were informed that Kat's cancer had gotten more aggressive. I was needed to liase with the doctor's office, as she was also showing signs of dementia...she had been exhibiting aphasia for a while, but chalked it up to side effects from her chemo. It was heart-breaking, watching her decline. Her younger son got married in October, and we didn't think to oversee her packing, so she ended up with the clothes she was wearing and the suit for the wedding and nothing else. The night before she left for Texas to visit her 96-year old mother in december, I went over and packed for her...only to find out from GK, who flew in and met her plane and drove her to G'ma's, that Kat had repacked my packing. *sigh*

Not the greatest year I've ever had, that's for sure.


.

I've been trying to remember what happened when, and I'm waiting for an email back from GK to clarify some dates.

They say the memory is the second thing to go.

I forget what the first thing is....

* * * * *

January of 1993 heralded the marriage of GK and Himself. (I am just as puzzled now as I was then, but it works for her---!) It was a fairly traditional church wedding, the only potentially startling note being the bride's gown. She made it herself: It had a white satin bodice and a royal blue skirt. Gorgeous, and she pragmatically created something she could repurpose for RenFest.

BlueRoses was her only attendant; I was nominated to take charge of the banquet. Namely, I snuck out of the ceremony early, trotted across the way to the church hall and set out platters of food. I didn't get anything to eat except for a slice of cake; I was too damn busy.

However, being the dogsbody did have its advantages: I was invited to the bridal luncheon for her nearest and dearest, as well as the rehersal dinner, which was held at a very swanky restaurant.

Since I was between jobs, swanky restaurants were fairly few and far between at that time...I ended up going back to school, because there were grants and student jobs and things like that. (I'd do it now, but the student loans hanging over me rule that out. Long story short, avoid loans, go for the grants.) That had the side benefit of working in the same office as Kat; the office she worked in needed someone, and she put in a good word for me.

That was educational, but we'll get to that soon enough.


.

Lately, I've noticed myself borrowing some of Kat's favorite sayings. The most prevalent one, in response to questions beginning with "Do you remember---? is, "I've slept since then."

"Do you remember a couple months ago, I told you about the lady with the dacshund in Rockledge?"

"No, I've slept since then."

Another one that comes up regularly, when for instance, a cashier or CSR is apologizing for a delay is, "I don't go anywhere in a hurry."

"Ma'am, I'm so sorry you had to wait for service."

"It's okay, I don't go anywhere in a hurry."

And just now, I got off the phone with Mb and I heard myself say, "Later, Gator!" and had a disconcerting moment of deja vu. It's not a BAD thing, per se, it just feels weird.

I still miss you, honey!


.

Have spent the last hour shifting firniture, with 100% chance of more moving to come. But this is the last of it---the stuff I got from Kat's estate---no more dealings with NosyNeighbor, no more wincing as BC manhandles things---now it's "just" a matter of making room for it all.

I need to reorganize my pantry/kitchen, repaint a 'new' coffee table and find a place for the old one. (Much as I love it, it's longer than the loveseat-couch. Time for something more size-appropriate...). Then there's the ongoing struggle with my bedroom---I need to consolidate two short, wide bookcases into one tall, narrow one...but first I have to GET to it.

*Did* get BC to take four boxes of outgoing to the thrift store, and I know he's going to raid them for a few pieces of inferior decorative aluminum and brass, I'm just going to pretend I don't care, because it's the least I can do to compensate him for all the heavy lifting.

Oh---and while I was shoving things around and checking the contents of stray plastic bags, guess what I came across? Water for Elephants, which was last month's book at writer's group. (I knew the first couple of chapters sounded familiar.) Like finding that shamrock pin the day AFTER St. Pat's---timing.

Now I'm going to take a shower and make a WalMart run....
.

Last night I was in very bad headspace. Took a muscle relaxer and two ibuprofen before I turned out the light and slept for six solid hours. Got up to answer a demand from my kidneys ("Make room! Make room!"), then went back to bed and zonked for another two and a half hours. Must be the time change catching up to me....

Just before I woke, I had a series of dreams...driving in moderately heavy traffic with a woman who was a very aggressive driver and scared the snot out of me...then having dinner around a big table with a bunch of people, including Doc, and someone handed me a catalogue of made-up joke products...after the dinner party, I was at Kat's. This wasn't her trailer, or any of the houses where she lived, but it was her place. She came in and said good morning, and I asked if all her relatives had gone back to Texas or wherever. She said they'd left early that morning, thank goodness, because she was tired of tripping over a houseful of people. I said I'd leave if she wanted to have the place to herself, but she said no, she was glad to see me. She wasn't sick, she was alert and energetic.

Either my subconscious is trying to console me, or I'm channeling ala Crossing Over...either way, it was reassuring. I miss her constantly.

I'm also cheered to hear that Trauma (NBC, 9 PM Mondays) is going to be around for another ten episodes. ( What's really cool is---cut for casting spoiler ) Ten more weeks of Cliff Curtis makes me happy! Who knows, if enough of you lovely folks tune in, we might even get a second season!

Tomorrow is St Patrick's Day---I must remember to include green in tomorrow's ensemble.
.

I awoke at 4:30 AM this morning and could not get back to sleep. Did the usual Monday morning thing, dropped off my largesse, and headed over to Kat's, where GK has been staying with Doc Bizarre and his pride. (Doc'sLady is a Leo, and he *is* proud of his offspring. With some justification: They're adorable and fairly well-behaved.) From there, she and I went back down to the memorial gardens to complete a follow-up survey.

Bless her heart, she stopped at S'leven and bought us brunch. Detoured by way of my place and snagged my old (secondhand from sbjb) crockpot for Doc'sLady---I got one from the estate which has a carrying case. Since there's a good chance I may be hauling it to church, it seemed more suitable for me. I changed my top, because the one I started out with kept flashing my bra and was driving GK even crazier than it was driving me. While I was doing that, she snagged my stash of egg cartons from the garage---about a dozen, clear sign that I had too many.

Back at the trailer, we all packed and shifted various stuff. I have all my smallish loose stuff packed in egg crates---I forgot to mention, one of my acquisitions is--- (trumpet fanfare, please!) a blood pressure cuff. The wrist type, which is what they use at the health department, and I tested it---it works! (134/89)

By then, it was past noon, and sandwich or no, I was fatigued. Told GK I'd grab what was already out by my car, go home and try to plow a path to get some of the big stuff in. I brought a few items home: the orchid and Kat's jade plant which used to be huge and gorgeous but now it's poorly potted and needs a lot of TLC. I've had succulents before, years ago, and I'm hoping I can nurse it back to health. Got a galvanized tub full of BIG conch shells, which I want to incorporate into a Medicine Wheel. Pastel portraits of Kat and Vern circa 1960. A print of a room with wicker and quilts. Some fabric (one of my weaknesses). And a cast-resin rock with blue flowers that says "Welcome".

Kat had that rock out by her front door at three different houses. I walked past it thousands of times, and I couldn't stand to see it disappear. Now it's greeting people who come up my front path. Once I got everything unpacked from the car, I ran out of steam and crashed for a nap; several consecutive days of four hours of sleep has me out of it.

The general game plan is, if she's made progress at the trailer tomorrow, GK will come over to my place tomorrow evening and help me get the "new" sofa in. Otherwise, I have a key and after she leaves Wednesday, I'll see who I can round up who's got a minivan or a pick-up truck....
.

Today has gone on and on. First, church. Rocked The Hat again, this time with black slacks and a black and green print top. Had CUUPs after church til about 2:30, then directly over to Kat's for the divvying of the spoils, where I was til 9-ish, then home by way of WalMart.

Am I mercenary for having gotten 95% of the stuff I was hoping for, which is quite a lot, and more besides? Yes to the microwave---everyone was in agreement that no one should be without a microwave, and since their households were already so equipped...mine! Also the cabinet, the couch and matching ottoman and the Fiestaware, all of which were previously agreed to.

Also awaiting retrieval are, a step-stool, two floor lamps, the TV, a clock I've always admired, a microwave cart, ironing board, folding table (for dog training events), a end table that I want to do a shabby chic number on because it looks like crap but has nice lines, some wicker drawers that stack, and a columnar fan that ocillates and has a remote control. Score!

But wait! There's more! Two quilted wall hangings, a bed-sized quilt, an orchid plant, a woven wall hanging that GK made in high school---something else I've loved wistfully from afar forever, a binful of assorted kitchenware and random stuff (NJ and Doc's wife were the hot contenders for most of the domestic goodies---I got the bakeware with Kat's okay weeks ago).

And---there was bling. I got nine items (coincidentally my lucky number), nothing really precious, and two of them I'm planning to repurpose---a working watch with a too-small band---I can make another band and turn it into a bracelet watch---and a safety-pin broach that I'm going to embellish with different charms. I requested a pewter birdhouse pin that I'd given Kat years ago...I'm thinking it'll be sweet on my pink tweed jacket at Easter---and two other pins, a silvertone angel and an old Venetian-glass guitar. One pair of earrings, pearl in gold coils. Two turquoise pendants, both set with silver, one on a silver chain, the other on a silvertone chain. And finally, Kat's late husband's class ring. (Clinch County High School, '58.) I know, that last one is odd, but neither of the boys wanted it and it fit my ring finger. It's gold with a big red cabochon stone, and since I never had a class ring of my own, it makes me happy.

So far, all that's come home with me is the bling. Tomorrow is going to be another long day! But it's going to get me a microwave, a decent couch and a TV that's bigger than a postage stamp---I'll be able to read credits without squinting! I just have to make room for it....
.

It's been a long day. I've had *maybe* four hours of sleep---could NOT get comfortable last night. Got up, showered---a word of advice, gals: Put on your bra BEFORE you paint your nails, especially if you're in a hurry. Irridescent lime green, of course, to match The Hat.

J arrived in a timely manner, we got there with time to spare, and The Hat was a hit.

The pastor of Kat's church spoke first...actually, he sang first, to a canned countrified version of...I don't remember what it was. I've heard the hymn before, but the title escapes me*. Anyway, between the Baptist karaoke and the fact that the guy reminded me of Robin Williams channeling John Wayne, I was glad to have a veil to veil my smirk.

Pastor then gave us a lengthy harrangue of preachification. I sat quietly and thought seditious, heretical things.

GK took the podium and gave us memories of her mom. She choked up when thanking her hub for holding down the fort so she could come down to visit, and then at the end, when she sang "The Yellow Rose of Texas".

Then I said my piece (under the cut below), and the pastor, who was sitting behind me, actually let loose a couple 'amen's. I didn't lose it, for which I'm grateful---I must've gotten it out of my system yesterday.

After the service...unfortunately, S and T showed up. I talked to S last night and she was fine, but today, she was wasted. J and I were both pretty ticked off, but making a scene certainly wasn't going to solve anything. They showed up at the luncheon at the church, too, and S reminded me of Kat toward the end, with the dementia...she wasn't carrying on the same conversation as the rest of us.

Lambie Pie gave me a stack of books...I'm not into the vamp stuff at all, but she swears it's hilarious. Hey, free books...free is good, right? We'll see.

Tomorrow morning, GK's hub leaves with Things 1 & 2, and in the afternoon, we (meaning her, her brothers, their wives and I) will get together at Kat's place and start divying up what's left. Fingers crossed, that means I'll have a microwave by tomorrow evening.

And now, a long overdue nap. Thanks for all the love and support, youse guys. It's helped.


***
( My eulogy )

* "How Great Thou Art".
.

I spent Friday morning crying, Friday afternoon napping, and Friday evening pretty much trying to maintain. There wasn't a huge crowd at the viewing...maybe a dozen people aside from the immediate family, and I knew most of them. Was very, very glad when Lambie Pie told me she was riding with Blue Roses, as I'd rashly promised that early on before I started hardcore grieving. I'm going in J's car, bless her. I have a feeling that by the time it's all over, I'll be wrung out and in no shape to drive.

The nap partially explains why I'm still up at this hour. That and the fact that I had to write up the eulogy I want to give, then I had to set up the printer J gave me for Xmas, which meant taking down my little pink tree. Printer worked just dandy right off the bat---ya gotta love plug and play---sthat's taken care of. I spent about 20 minutes restringing the necklace I want to wear. Then I assembled everything for tomorrow: clothes, hat, necklace, bag, shoes, speech so I'll be ready to go no matter how little sleep I get.
.

Today's dog was cancelled, which doesn't bother me; I need to do laundry. It's in progress even as we speak: the first half of the first load is in the dryer. I read somewhere that one way to extend your washer's life is NOT to do back-to-back loads but to allow the motor time to cool down in between...so I've been drying half a load at a time, which gives the stuff in the dryer more room, so they dry faster.

Originally, I had planned a simple, sober plum ensemble for the funeral. Wide-legged pants, a sort of satiny-boucle top, nothing dramatic. Then yesterday, GK and I dropped some donations off at the Sharing Center and took a few minutes to go in and browse. I found A Hat. OMG, love at first sight, tried it on, HAD to have it. Had to. And because it has a veil, GK asked if I was going to wear it to the funeral. (Adding that she was going to have on a red dress.) Okay then. I guess I'll be more splendiferous than planned.

Let me describe The Hat to you, so you know why I hesitated. This is a High Church sort of hat. The shape is fedora over a round brim that curves down like a bowl. It's embellished with a two-toned flower, has two-toned band encircling the crown, and a wide-gage black fishnet veil. Oh, and the two tones? Are basic black and vivid lime green. The Hat itself is green felt, the band is green-on-black grosgrain, and the flower is small-gage stiff black tulle bound with green grosgrain. This is a Drop Dead sort of hat, and I think I'm the only person I know who'd try it on, much less buy it with the knowledge that I could rock it.

The more I think about it, the more sure I am that this is exactly the right thing to wear to Kat's funeral. Because if she had seen me wear it, she would have said, "Wow!" and not criticized me for wearing something "inappropriate". In the days before I got fashion (much the same as some of my other friends 'got religion'), she never said a word about how loose, tight, faded or ugly my clothes were. She was the most accepting, non-judgemental person I've ever known.

With that in mind, I'm going to wear the skirt S gave me last year, which has a black background and a print in tones of green, violet and aqua. I checked; it goes beautifully with The Hat. Which top will depend on Saturday's weather. I have assorted long- and short-sleeved tops in all three colors and can mix and match to suit the climate.

For tomorrow's viewing, I'm leaning toward navy (topped by my navy hat), rather than black, although that, too, will be weather-dictated.

Today feels like it should be a Friday, but I'm still rather out of it. I can't believe she's gone....
.

This is the second morning in a row that I've hallucinated the sound of my front doorbell, leaped out of bed yelling, "Hello?" and found no one there. Perhaps I dreamed it? Pity I didn't manage to get the trash to the curb, since the trash truck has come and gone.

I'm meeting GK and BC at the funeral home at 11. We're going in separate cars since GK only rented a mid-sized sedan, and there's no way it'll fit her, me, BC AND Things 1 and 2. Not to mention, I've been on car trips with her kids before, and I'd rather not, IYKWIM. I'm sure she and I will have plenty of togetherness---she's staying on for a couple days after the funeral, and her hub is flying back with the Things.

The funeral is Saturday morning, I don't know if I've said. There's a sizable hole in my heart; I still feel somewhat numb, but at the same time, I get upset easily. Drop something, trip over something, computer frustates me---hell, ANYTHING that frustrates me---and my inadvertant expletives would make a Marine blush. I've been reining in my unhappiness for months as her condition deteriorated, and now it's breaking free like a glacier calving iceburgs. Not exactly the way I *want* to celebrate Kat's legacy, it just feels like my life don't work. Not that that's anything unusual, but that plus grief? Not pretty.

The Olympics are making me happy. I'm glad the Canadians broke their drought and got a gold medal, I'm happy for those sweet Chinese couple who won the pairs figure-skating gold, and yay, the Estonians took silver in women's cross-country skiing. (My Estonian friend jokes that there are only two seasons there: winter, and lousy skiing weather....)

Yesterday's SPN marathon made me happy. I agreed with most of the eps they showed, although "Criss Angel is a D-bag"...ehh, not so much. But "Tall Tales", "Mystery Spot" are both fabu, "Hollywood Babylon" and "Bad Day at Black Rock" are both hoots, and I'll always sit through "After School Special" for the sheer pleasure of cougaring Brock Kelly.

Once more into the breach....
.

Here's what been going on: Kat is in hospital, and according to BC, she's unresponsive. He says she could go at any time; he doesn't think she'll even make it til GK's arrival next Monday evening. And of course, I have developed my annual case of tonsillitis/head cold, so I don't dare go visit her.

I stayed with her Saturday afternoon/evening...she was lethargic then, sitting on couch, staring at TV, conversation garbled. She ate a few bites of chicken and a morsel of cheese. When she toddled off to bed (around 7 PM), she said good night, and that she loved me like a daughter. I am more thankful than I can say that she knew me when I saw her last. That was sad enough, I don't want to see her comatose.

It's been quite a while since she's been herself; little by little over the past months she's lost her ability to communicate and her personality is not the woman I've known for so long. The last 60-90 days, she's gone downhill in every sense, but in the last couple of weeks, it's accelerated. Accumulation of fluid in her abdomen, pain, difficulty walking...marked worsening of her dementia and aphasia...it's been hell to watch, but the end is in sight.
.

After last night's bedroom bottle roundup, today I headed into the oft-interrupted dining room (as in, I keep starting on it, getting distracted, working on something else, coming back to it, etc. I ought to decorate it in a homing pigeon theme.). Anyway, I removed the breakables from the white bookcase, slid it across the room while pivoting it 180+ and tucked it against the west wall. The frees up the east wall for that cabinet.

There was still a furring strip on the east wall from the days of wall-to-wall carpet; I took a hammer and chisel to it, revealing a stripe of immaculate terrazo beneath it and nastiness on either side. That inspired me to scrub that patch, despite the fact that it'll be covered when the cabinet is in place.

The color that seems to be dominating in there so far is orange---I don't mind---I happen to like orange, which is how I've managed to acquire an old enameled coffee pot, an orange plaid ice bucket, and quite a few candles. I also have a length of fabric with orange, brown and red stripes that looks to become a tablecloth.

Now I'm confronting The Drawer. It's the top drawer of a bureau that got trashed at least a year ago...the only reason it wasn't included was because my brain short-circuited when faced with a plethora of keepsakes. Things like the bell-shaped green candy dish I made in kindergarten, jewelry, mementos, tchotchkes, etc. I took it out and set it on a chair when I dragged the rest of the piece down to the curb and never did get around to going through it.

I got as far as sliding the chair around so I could sweep that side of the sliding glass doors and took a break to look at my email...that really side-tracked me, since there was an email from GK, saying Kat's going into the hospital. She was really quiet when I was with her on Saturday, and apparently she was in pain yesterday and had a couple of falls. They're going to give her the industrial-strength painkillers and hopefully this time they'll be able to drain the fluid in her abdomen. Or...GK says she's contacted Dr Bizarre to come if he can, since there's also a chance that This Is It. As much as I'm dreading my world without her in it, she really isn't herself anymore. Is it selfish of me to want her to be at peace?
.

I know, I've been out of it for a few days. I mashed my next-to-little toe on my right foot the other day---just kicked something by accident in bare feet. Fucking meow, as George Carlin used to put it. Today it's still swollen, but not hurting---on the other hand, I haven't put shoes on yet, either.

We reunited Poncho with his mama yesterday---she was hesitant, but came around when she realized that he was collared and leashed and perfectly mellow about it. We're not through with them yet, but they've both had breakthroughs. And another new dog tomorrow, a mini poodle yay!

TV is making me happy. I won't go into specifics, because I'm not in the mood to screw around with LJ-cuts, but Heroes made me squee mightily and spawned slash bunnies like, whoa! White Collar sent me into ecstasies---I was hoping to see Neal in tennis whites, but Peter---! OMG, I've always *liked* Tim DeKay, but I've transcended that---I've reached wildly lusting after!---and clearly I'm going to have to go back and revisit Carnivale. Homina, homina, homina.

There's also the matter of TNT's SPN reruns---breakfast with the boys is the most important part of my day---they've gone through them in order and today was In My Time of Dying. Four seasons later, the foreshadowing hurts sometimes, and oh, those seem like such halcyon days, before Hell and the Apocalypse. I also agree with whoever it was on my f'list who recently noted that the boys seem so much more muscular these days. Uh-huh, practically petite. And I think Sam looked better with the old shaggy haircut. (Am I the only one who thinks you could show movies on Jared's forehead?!)

In a little while, I get to get dressed and work a shift of Kat-sitting. There's a reason I never went into nursing, despite a youthful fondness for Sue Barton and Cherry Ames*; I don't have the nurturing instinct, and I feel horribly awkward. Even carrying on a conversation is strained at this point, because although she'll still respond, her answers usually make it clear that she's having a different conversation than you are. The aphasia/dementia has reached the point where her stories ramble without informing---she told me about her last hospital visit, and if GK hadn't already briefed me, I would've have no idea what she meant. In short, they couldn't drain the fluid from her abdomen, so they have her on diuretics with some success so far.

Leverage tonight, woohoo. Something to look forward to....

=========================================

* I had to suppress an evil impulse to cough up Cherry Ames: Hospice Nurse for yuletide. Too much gritty realism would suck at the holidays; unleashing my issues on some unsuspecting recipient is major cockroach kharma.
.

Last night GK called (in the middle of WNTW, timing!) and announced that she was scheduling me for Kat-sitting duty. She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed has drafted me today from 2-9 and Wednesday and Friday from 5-9. I had my calendar handy and was able to verify that I/we have no dogs on those days.

Last night I even dreamed about dog training---I was in the backseat of a convertible with a yellow Lab puppy. The couple who owned him was in the front seat, talking about how he seemed to be afraid of car upholstery...the other side of the backseat was clawed down to the foam. I had him on my lap, and he seemed calm and happy. I'm not sure what I did about his fears....

Hormones are playing hell with me...signs that I may be getting punctuated after about nine months without---really, I'm OVER this. Ready for my cronage, thank you. It's probably contributing to the fact that I have been sleeping very badly and hurting a lot. Not so much the usual pit-of-the-stomach pain, but my shoulders---there IS no comfortable position, and they wake me up numerous times every night. My first action every morning is to grab the Excedrin.

Now to go find some breakfast, and take care of some "bidness" before I head over to Kat's....
.