Thursday, February 5, 2015

Even In Death, Life Goes On

Just a short note today. Thank you, everyone, for your comments, and for your thoughts if you did not know how to respond. We had a bit of an icy interlude last night, and school was called off at 8:00 p.m. Who do you have to know around here to use a sick day? My vast collection remains virtually untouched.

Sis and I were busy today traipsing across the county, putting things in order. We almost gave the counter girl at the bank a slipped disc, hernia, and broken toe by asking to inspect Mom's safe deposit box. Actually, it was the other counter lady who did that to her, what with saying that she'd just had surgery, and couldn't lift more than ten pounds. Oh, this was more than ten pounds. Yeah, buddy! Let's just say that my dad was abit of a coin collector. I felt sorry for that counter lady. Not because of her unnamed surgery, but because, when Sis told her why we were there, and slid the deposit slip across the counter to her, she gasped and teared up. "Oh, no! THAT was your mom? We loved her!"

We have all the arrangements in place. Mom had spent the last two years putting her finances in order, so we should not have to deal with the courts, but only take over the accounts Mom had put in our names. She was a sensible woman, my mom...except when it came to people parking in her driveway.

The ex-mayor bawled like a baby, and Hick shed a couple of low-liquid tears (due, I am sure, to his lifelong fondness for soup without the juice) yesterday as events unfolded. Tonight at the visitation, I must assure the ex-mayor that we will, indeed, have our car washed when we get to town tomorrow, so as not to embarrass him during the funeral procession.

We had planned on it all along, but I was reminded how important that would be to them when Sis walked past T-Hoe as we entered the cemetery office, and asked, "Do you have cats?"

Yes. Four. Though by the footprints on T-Hoe's black hood, you might think it was a dozen.


  1. I'll be thinking about you tonight during the visitation, and in the days to come. Of course life goes on, but there does remain a hole in the heart when someone we love passes away. Take care.

  2. Wait a minute. Your sister didn't know you had cats? Or was she being catty?

    I hope you're able to laugh a little over the next few days as you retell stories about your mom. She taught you and your sister quite a lesson. Take care of all the details so no one is burdened with the legal messes.

    As far as the bank, it says something about your mom that the tellers knew her and were fond of her.

    My thoughts are with you...

  3. Sorry to hear of your loss, Val. I had missed reading about it yesterday.

  4. We'll miss your mom. Your writing created a fun personality who must have had a great sense of humor to tolerate your kidding.

  5. Stephen,
    Thank you. I miss her so much. I keep thinking, "I need to call Mom and tell her about this." It's going to take a while.

    She did not. Let the record show that our gatherings are at HER house, not mine. I know she USED to have a cat, and she USED to have a dog. Maybe there needs to be an investigation of Sis and her missing pets...

    Thank you. I am still laughing inside as I recall Mom's antics.

    Thank you. It was sudden. Not like there was foreshadowing of her expiration date.

    She took it SO well! My dad once convinced Sis and me that Mom ate a can of dogfood on a camping trip. It was just corned beef hash, but we ribbed her over it for years.

    Thank you. I'm getting through it. I've got a ton of great memories.

  6. Val, I left a comment here much earlier and thought the reason I didn't see it was because it had to be approved first....but something happened to it. Anyway, I'm so sorry to hear about your mom. I didn't see your previous post and this was the first I read about it. I know you two were close and talked every day, or almost every day. I send condolences and hugs, and I'm with you in spirit.

    1. Thank you so much. Mom and I talked AT LEAST once a day. I think our unofficial record was seven calls between us in one day. I had a dream about her last night. It's going to take a while to let go.

      Blogger seems to have an insatiable appetite for comments.