Clinging to the Barnacles

I’m sitting in the San Diego airport in a stupor, really looking forward to going home. Today was a big thrash – met with my parents’ primary care physician to get their DNR forms approved, asked him for referrals to other doctors in the town they are moving to – he had no idea, but he tried to use the online provider directory, messed up his computer connection, and asked me for assistance. There’s only so much helping I’m doing at this point. I politely told him I would do my own research. I actually found a decent doctor (I think), the same guy my mother also dug up from her phone calls, so we’ll see if that works out.

For 25 years the squeaky door in the “guest room” has been an irritant; it’s a challenge to easily sneak in and out. My quest to find a working can of WD-40 in the workbench pile was fruitless, so I used cooking spray instead. Fixed!

After wrestling old dusty purses from Mom, all with wadded up tissues inside (“but I might use them one day”), trying to make copies of keys that no longer are in production, and refusing offers of cut crystal dishes to slip into my carry-on luggage, I escaped.

Coming up on Thursday is an interview with a liquidator/estate sale organizer to see if my folks can offload any of their treasures for cash —and fortunately I’m not going to be present for that event. They’re on their own! It was set up by their potential realtor.

I’ll go back to facilitate the move and get things in order – but I need a long break.

Running Low on Bananas

I’ve lost count of how many trips I’ve made to supermarkets to stock up on essentials: bananas, mustard, smoked salmon, pickles. My parents are hoarding food in 3 refrigerators – how will they ever downsize to one?

Today’s accomplishments: I managed to pack all the photo albums and ship them to Seattle. Donated a mountain of travelogue photos to the local library. Went with Dad to the bank to rearrange his accounts and ensure a free safety deposit box at any branch for life. Reinstalled his internet service after he accidentally removed it. Talked to 2 real estate agents and showed them the extension cord curtain in the garage. One agent was excellent, sensitive to geriatric issues, and paid attention to detail. The other agent was pathetic. For a total of 4 hours, we all learned about plumbing, floods, termites, and other plagues that will deflate the market price. Then we managed to go to dinner, after the frantic daily hunt for the house keys. Dad was frustrated that he couldn’t find his favorite jacket – and I had a growing dread that I stuffed it in one of the donated sacks of clothing. I was on the verge of confessing when it turned up in the bathroom.

Future options include an estate sale, an auction, a painting party, and/or a landscaping intervention. I had previously promised to drive all the tools (see picture for just a slice of the inventory) up to Seattle in a truck. The latest plan is to rent a van to transport everything not picked over to my friend’s house one hour away and hold a giant garage sale on his front lawn. I’ll have to pretend to be on the road for a few days, no one will be the wiser if you all can keep a secret.

Furtive Trips to Goodwill

It’s my morning ritual. Stuff hefty bags full of who-knows-what and drive to town to frantically toss junk into a waiting bin. No, I don’t need a receipt. 3 carloads so far and it hasn’t made a dent. Today I spent 4 hours setting up Dad’s new Internet service (found a dial-up provider way cheaper and better than the evil AT&T), new Google email, new Thunderbird software, etc. All this so he can get coupons he can’t use, and pay his utility bill. After I realized the sun was shining and it was gorgeous outside, I escaped to go swimming at the local Y (big outdoor pool, the only good part about Santee CA). I called 2 real estate agents and made appointments for them to come chat – then realized that they would probably scream in horror if they entered my parent’s home without hazmat suits. So I bought a new door mat (remember when selling a home, it’s all about staging) rushed back to hide things in the garage, vacuum, scrub the floor, etc.

In the garage I found:
The Newsweek issue with Tanya Harding’s knee-bashing interview, a complete set of Judy Collins albums (which I played on the 40-year old record player), many broken beach chairs, a dead sparrow, and lots of spider eggs. Yuck. The neighbors have taken pity on me and invited me over for cocktails. I may succumb to their kind offer soon -- today I am much too busy! With all of this activity, I have yet to tackle my macramé plant holder, made in junior high school. It hangs in petrified dusty dignity in the living room. Would anyone like it?

The Folks Set a Date!

I spent the morning trying to convince my mother that she could part with shoes that no longer fit, were popular decades ago, had stacked heels, or only matched glitter outfits. I threw all the shoes in a box and hid them in the car trunk for eventual disposal to Goodwill. I already made one secret run before breakfast to the thrift shop with piles of clothing, most of it size large, never worn. Note that my mother is 4 foot 10, weighs 100 pounds, is quite petite – but these clothes were really good bargains in their time.

We went off for yet another free lunch at the retirement facility -- herring/gefilte fish salad, an acquired taste. Next on the agenda was visiting an apartment that has been held for them since January. We took pictures. We measured counters. We took turns sitting on the shower seat. We discussed how to fit 6 broken vacuum cleaners and hundreds of old bed sheets into a place that offers cleaning once a week and free linens.

Maybe it was watching the old family movies last night, maybe it was a growing realization that they couldn’t rely on their neighbors much longer for trips to the grocery store, maybe it was just the right time -- but they agreed to commit to a move-in date.

Imagine my surprise when my father whipped out his checkbook – even after the facility had waived the deposit and move-in fee – to ensure they had a spot. Much negotiation ensued about the date – the marketing manager wanted April Fool’s Day, I was positioning for Mother’s Day, my mother said “can you hold it until Labor Day? We need some more time.” We settled on May 27 as the absolute deadline. Everyone shook hands, I blinked back tears of relief, and immediately went into micro-planning mode to facilitate the transition. If it were up to me, I would hire movers to come tomorrow, with or without the post-it notes.

To celebrate, I rented ‘Up” for the evening to watch with my parents – sort of backwards logic there, if you’ve seen the film – but hey, I got it for a $1. I like bargains too.

I brought back the box of shoes from the car trunk for my mother to go through again. Heck, she can keep them all if she wants. Some things I totally understand.

An Endless Seinfeld Re-run

I’m baaack – visiting the parents. No, they haven’t moved out of their house yet. But they have spread out every box and closet all over the floor in an attempt to
“organize.” Nothing can be discarded without an analysis of how it might be useful one day.

AT&T stopped supporting my father’s dial-up modem last week and as a result, he has stopped getting email. I’ve been on the account remotely from Seattle – the man has 130 unopened messages, 128 of which are coupons and 2 are from me. I brought my laptop and showed him the backlog so he could see what great deals he’s been missing. In order to get a wireless connection I have to sit on the driveway in the dark and hack into a neighbor’s modem (thank you, G Belkin, whoever you are).

We all watched family movies from 1959, which were originally on 8 millimeter film reels. I just had it converted from a VCR version to DVD format with an updated music track. In these movies I’m 3 years old and totally adorable. It makes me cry every time I see it. It makes my friends go all goofy. What did my parents do when they viewed it? They argued about which relative died of what disease.

Here’s the cleaning plan for the weekend: I’ve brought post-it pads to place on every item. Green = goes. Blue = stays. Yellow = goes back on the floor and my mother trips on it. There has been some progress in the last month. Dad sold his stamp collection and is getting $50 for his 200+ albums (a quarter each, and the vintage classics you would expect).

Tomorrow we get to have another free lunch at the retirement community! Looking forward to seeing my buddies again.