Momster

Yesterday's plan was to run a couple of errands with Mom. After getting dressed I headed out and decided to do a cache on the way to her house. It was in the Hamlets in Crowfield subdivision. I have decided that South Carolina cache's are much more treacherous than Ohio's because of the marsh, humidity and all things swampy. There are many more snakes, spiders and critters here. They are everywhere! This particular cache was in a bush, but I swear the whole bush was covered in spider webs. I had to knock some down just to reach my hand in to grab the cache. It held nothing exciting and everything was damp. bummer.

I got to Mom's and she was complaining about being up all night with an upset stomach. The day before she complained that she was up all night with restless legs and cramps. Wouldn't you know that the two medicines that Dr. Eads stopped were the Immodium and Quinine. I asked her why she didn't just take them if she was suffering since she still had portions of the prescription left and she said "well, he took me off of them!" Any normal person would have just taken it and called the doctor and said "I need these!" but not her. She's the worlds biggest martyr, which I have no tolerance for. I told her that I would call Dr. Eads and have him refill the Rx's but she said no. Whatever. I ended up going to CVS for some OTC Immodium. She said that she wasn't in the mood to go anywhere so I hung out a bit.

Mom was in a very weird mood. When I came to Charleston, I told her that I would like one of Great Grandma's handmade quilts. I really thought my Mom would do her normal bitching, but she said "okay, which one?" I nearly fell on the floor from shock! Mom has always had this bizarre thought that she would leave all of her belongings to us... no only her belongings, but things she inherited from both Nana and Grandma. When Nana died she really didn't inherit a lot. What she did inherit, she kept, which is understandable. When Grandma died Mom got a bunch of jewelery, pictures and other odds and ends. When Great Grandma died, Mom inherited all of her quilting things since she was the only one who quilted.

When Grandma died I asked Mom for some photos or jewelery, after all, I was the first-born grandchild. Mom said we could each pick ONE piece of jewelry and that's it. The rest was going into storage until she died. I chose a cameo pin which I have with me always. I was really pissed because I thought it was not her legacy to leave - it was Grandma's and we should be able to enjoy her things for as long as possible. They weren't doing anyone any good sitting in a box waiting for Mom to die. This was Mom's plan... leave the kids as much as possible so we will all be eternally greatful for this wonderful inheritance. Whatever.

A long time ago I told my Mom that I really didn't want anything and I meant it. I was just disgusted at everyone's behavior when Grandma died. People were fighting over furniture and who got what. It was disgusting. It's a fucking chafing dish - get over it!

Anyway...

After many discussion about the ridiculousness of the situation, Mom decided that she wanted to give me her Blue Willow china that was her Mother's. This was many years ago that she decided this, and I told her I didn't want it. I eventually (as "Hot Missy" would say) "put it in a bubble and blew it away"... I got over it and just accepted it for the gift that it was. When Dad died, before I moved, I told my Mother that I wanted his yearbooks from high school and his backgammon board. She was fine with that. Surprisingly enough, she also gave me an old German prayer book that he inherited from Great Grandma's side of the family. I think I got that since I am so into genealogy.

There is a point to this story, I swear.

So, yesterday Mom started going through her china cabinet and started pulling out all of this glassware and kept asking me if I wanted it. This was antique glassware that she inherited from Grandma, Nana, Great Nana... you name it. Also, some glass that Dad brought back from Italy years ago and a copper tea (I think) set from the Middle East. She told me to pack it up before Janine came home. She told me that she was afraid it would end up in the wrong hands (either of my sisters) and it would not be cared for. She also gave me an old pottery bowl of Nana's, a summer quilt that was made by my maternal Great Great Grandmother and an antique box full of greeting cards that were give to Nana and Grandpa when they were married, had children or for their anniversaries.

Isn't all this strange?

She was sitting there giving me all of this stuff that she cherished and I kept thinking.... "who are you, and where's my Mother??" I was also thinking about the possibility of her planning her demise. I mean, why would she be giving all of this stuff that was so important to her? She keeps bringing me stuff. I really think she is planning to die. She will never get over my father and she is just letting all of her ailments take over her body without even trying to get better. I just have a feeling that my next trip to Charleston will be for her funeral. I was up in the attic yesterday looking around and suddenly felt overwhelmed. What in the hell would we do with all of this stuff that she has stored everywhere. Her house is a craft and artist lovers wet dream! Dad and I used to joke that when she died we would just put a cash register at the door and people could just shop through her painting and craft supplies since most of it still had price tags on it!

After being bombarded with all of this I decided to leave and have some much needed cache-therapy. I only did a couple because it started raining (damn hurricane's). I got a big scrape on my leg and was bleeding everywhere. I think I looked more for snakes than I did for the cache's! The rain was coming down pretty hard so I decided to call it a day. When I was in traffic I happened to look over and I was in front of the cemetery where Dad is buried. I did a u-turn and pulled in. I walked up the hill to the veterans section. I walked down the row where he is and at first I didn't see his grave. I thought to myself, gee, maybe I was imagining the whole thing and he really isn't dead! No such luck. There he was... still dead. I started crying and then got mad at myself for doing so. I mean, it's really not doing any good to cry. It won't change anything. He isn't coming back. Put it in the bubble, right Missy?

I stood there remembering the day we buried him. My Grandfather kept looking up the hill trying to see what they were doing as far as putting the casket in the ground. From where the service was you could not see the actual grave. It was kind of sick because the guys with the bulldozers were sitting there waiting for the family to leave. How fucked up is that? Here we are mourning the loss of Dad and they are sitting there having a smoke and watching the festivities... waiting to push the dirt in the hole. I asked my Grandfather if he wanted me to walk up the hill with him and he said yes. We walked over to the grave and his casket was six feet under. Big mistake looking at that. It has never left me and the thought of my Dad being in a box under the earth fucks with me every day. Someone later told me that when they were lowering him into the ground they dropped the casket and it popped open. Lovely. Thank God we don't follow the Southern tradition of watching the casket being lowered.

It was raining hard and I was soaking wet. I didn't want to be there anymore. I needed ice cream. I went to Cold Stone, which is evil and bad and got the same thing I always get. Justin later told me that I need to venture out of getting the same old thing and try something new. I told him that I need to stop eating it, period! I think I have gained 10 pounds since I arrived in Charleston. I need to go on a hike or something. Samantha called me and met me at Cold Stone. She was on her way home and I told her I would see her there. I was sad and feeling pretty lonely so I took my time going back to her house.

When I got there, Samantha and I chatted a bit about life, love, relationships, family, etc. She's a good friend. I called Jonathan to confirm plans for Saturday. He filled me on what was happening with his wife and daughter - poor guy. I think out of everyone I know, I am most looking forward to seeing him. Over the last twenty years we have seen each other just a handful of times, the last being about 9 years ago. It will be nice to give him a hug and kiss again. He told me that William will be there, which is wonderful. I haven't seen William in probably 20 years! Since I was 16 or 17! Yikes! We were all so different back then! It will be so good seeing them both - and I finally get to meet Estella, Jonathan's 3 1/2 year old daughter! I am sure baby-envy will ensue thereafter.

Back to business...

Today I came to pick up Mom since she said she had an appointment with the foot doctor at 10am. We drove to the doctors and they were not even at that location any longer. I went into one of the offices and asked where they relocated and they said a few doors down. We drove around for twenty minutes and finally found the office, which was closed. Mom apparently had the wrong doctor, wrong place, wrong date and wrong time! I was really mad. We drove back home and got her notebook with her appointments in it and when she went in the bank I called all the doctors listed to confirm appointments. The appointment she had today was with a totally different doctor at 11:30am - not 10am! I was livid. I kept asking her why she didn't write ALL the information about the appointments down instead of the doctors name and the time... why didn't she write down the day the appointment was, as well? She just sat there and didn't say anything, which REALLY made me mad. I told her that I came down to help her but all she is doing is resisting. I told her that she used to handle everything when Dad was out to sea... kids, all household things, school, finances... EVERYTHING! I asked her what happened to that person?? I told her that there are millions of people that lose loved ones and millions of people with ailments... she is the only one responsible for her life and if she is giving up then let me know because I will not put myself through that. If she wants help, then I am here, but I can't help her if she sits there in silence. She didn't say much, just that she wanted something to drink and to go home to take a nap.

Yep, it was a fun morning.

Justin's right. I need ocean therapy!