Monday, June 18, 2018

I disliked Reagan. I was ambivalent about Bush I. I disliked Bush II (thought he was an idiot, Cheney was in charge).

I hate Donald Trump. And the people he surrounds himself with. I hate him with a passion.

This separating kids from their parents has affected me greatly. My mother has been dead for 22 days and I am having a hard time dealing with it. And now our government is taking children away from their parents. And Trump supporters like this, or they lie and claim it was a law or policy started by Obama or Clinton or Bush. It wasn't.

And of course all of the Republicans who could do something about this are afraid of that shithole, so nothing is changing.

I am angry right now.

Tuesday, June 12, 2018

Mother wanted to die at home, in her rocking chair. She instead died on the deck outside her window. My sister Susan had spent the morning with her, she was in good spirits. She laid down for a nap at 11:45 and Susan put her dog Darby next to her. She left and returned at 6 and found Mother face down on the deck. We don't know what happened- a heart attack, a stroke, or merely the fall. Her arms were up indicating she knew she was falling. In any case she died.

Susan called me and I had to call Elizabeth. Then I got an airplane ticket and rental car for the next day. Packed. In between crying.

Arrived in Traverse City. Bub was at Susan's house and we sat around talking. Outside purple and white lilacs were blooming. I had not seen there in decades. The smell brought back feelings of childhood. We always had large lilac bushes at our houses.


The next morning we went to the funeral home and made arrangements- mother had wanted to be cremated and buried with father in Greenbriar Cemetery. Elizabeth and I had both written obituaries. I combined them into one.

The night before I announced that I wanted to have an open house for family and friends and my siblings agreed on that.

We went and had lunch at Big Boy and then went back to start clearing out Mother's house.

So much stuff. Probably over 100 dolls. Boxes of doll, quilting, and knitting magazines. Family heirlooms. Clothes. At times it was overwhelming. I held it together until after Susan and Bub took a load of dolls to Elizabeth's and then I sat on her deck and sobbed. And again when cleaning out her food cupboards.

Bub's Amish friends came on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. I bought ice cream and cones for them. They were very nice, kind people, although one did send a pamphlet with a sympathy card that described Hell in detail.

Friday I burned 50 years worth of Mother's financial paperwork. The top of my head got sun burnt. I also mowed yard, the first time probably in over 20 years.

Burn barrel.

Saturday, the get together was nice and various relatives came, including two of my nephews. I'm guessing the last time I saw them was 10 years ago. I handed out copies of the family history book I had made for Mother, but which she never saw. It was admired, despite the printer having an old copy of Word that turned every ' into = and every "  "  into A  @. Irritating, since I spent $761 for 10 copies (it was color printed).

Wild iris.

More house clearing. There will probably be some hurt feelings. I didn't take much. My grandmother's spindleback couch and great great grandmother's rocking chair will have to be shipped to be once I pay down my credit card bill. Susan has a couple of boxes of things- some books, toys, dishes, and an afghan.

I brought Mother's cat Buddy back with me. He was very well-behaved on the flight. Cost $125 to bring him. Here in Tucson he has made himself at home. Snowball doesn't like him, but they have not had a fight, merely hiss at each other if they get to close.

Buddy Cat.

And so on. I have the last letter mother wrote me on May 10. It begins, "My dear Homer." It made me cry to reread that. I miss her. She was always there for me. I wouldn't be the person I am. She encouraged me when my father was abusive. She wasn't a saint and was certainly not someone with common sense. But she was a good person and rarely spoke poorly about other people, always looking on the bright side. The last phone conversation, on May 7th, she told me she was planning on living to be 90. I wish that had been true.

 Mother's rocking chair.

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