No, this isn’t fanfiction.

I’ve spent the last few weeks in the Interior. My parents can no longer live independently, even though the patriarch of this family insists he can. He can’t. My mom is exhausting and honestly, I don’t know why he’s not in a rubber room.

We’ve moved them into a beautiful Assisted Living facility that is MUCH smaller than the house. We’ve moved the furniture that we can and are in the process of tricking it out (fixing it up to make it homey) and my dad is asking for things there is no room for. Like his computer and all of his scanners (4 of them) and his stereo stack from the ’70’s.

Mom is wandering the facility, going into every unlocked room, taking clothing that isn’t hers and telling people to ‘shut the hell up because I’m trying to witness to you!’

Obviously, they need God.

My brother charged me with cleaning out her closet and dresser. Decide what we can sell, what she can wear, and what can go to Goodwill.

I told him – you’re asking a clothes whore to clean the closet of a clothes whore.

In the process, I discovered when she’s offered to help fold my laundry, she’s helped herself to my clothes. I found a bra that’s been missing since last March, a night shirt that’s been missing since last summer and 2 of Spawn’s shirts and a rain poncho.

I have her wedding dress and veil. The veil is so delicate, I fear the netting will disintegrate if I take it out of the zipper bag it’s in. I also have her wedding bible. A lot of the women in our family have carried it, so while I’m going to see if the town they got married in has a Historical Museum and would be willing to take it and display the dress and veil, I’m keeping the bible.

Needless to say, it’s been a difficult couple of weeks.

We’ve discovered that Dad hasn’t had new underwear in years, hasn’t had new shirts in years and may or may not fit his pants.

Mom has dropped 50 pounds. Nothing fits. So my brothers are in charge of buying HIM underwear and clothing and my sister and I are in charge of buying her clothes. Sports bras and easy dresses and cardigans. She’s cold. Very cold. She turned the air units to 90 degrees. This is the South and her apartment is hotter than outside.

So after several weeks, I loaded my car – like I need more stuff – and came home yesterday. My bedroom is getting a makeover, I have no clue where I’m going to hang the pictures of my ancestors. I’m seriously considering the half bath. Really. Nothing goes on in there so they would be safe! I brought home my mom’s computer. It has Windows 8 and we’ve discovered Windows 10 is NOT good for burning movies. So we’re going to try that! We’ve loaded the freezer and the pantry. And I’ve not finished unloading the car. We are going to The Beach for a week next Saturday, Spawn has his yearly cardio appointment the week Monday after that and we are renting a truck to bring home thing furniture it’s been decided we get. Spawn’s desk, my old vanity, the 4 poster bed and mattress set and the piano that belongs to the landlady. She doesn’t play, it belonged to her now deceased husband who had no family and she gave it to me for a ridiculously low sum. It’s in better shape than MY baby, which is a glorified display case for pictures and knick knacks. So this week, we’re doing a deep clean and move around, because I need somewhere to put these things.

In the meantime, we’ve had a LOT of rain. I mean…. a LOT. Trees are coming down. 10 minutes after I got home last night, there was a huge crash. A tree on the other side of the fence came down and not only broke up in my yard, but also destroyed a section of the wood fence. Yes, I’ve contacted the landlord (the property behind us is vacant) and yes, I took pictures and will regale you with them!

Behind the cut. After Richard.

Ain’t that a hoot? No, it’s not. Honestly, I’m just numb at this time. My back is out, I’m living on pain killers and yeah, the house needs a deep clean. My house, in addition to mom and dad’s.

And the car

And the pictures

and the garage

and my parents house

and I wanna write….