Life in the Twilight Zone - The End

 

Bev Fathers 3/4/1936 - 26/5/2024

I haven't wanted to do my blog, because it means it really is the end. Sure, it is, but it's almost like I'm letting her go, but she will be a part of all of us who knew her, until we die. 

On one hand, it has been such a relief to know that she is no longer just the shell of the human she used to be, who we called Mum, on the other, this is the woman who raised us, who was always there and now, seemingly with a snap of the fingers, she's not. 

I got a call from the home at about 3am on the morning of the 26th, if I wanted a chance to say goodbye I should go now. I had actually taken something to help me sleep, so I probably shouldn't have driven, but this was something that I had to do. One final chance to let her go. 

One tepid cup of horrible coffee, one stale piece of cake, and a couple of biscuits later, I was left alone with Mum. The mattress she was on, is some special mattress, that makes the worst noises in the world, while she moved. She didn't move much of course, but as the medications wore off, she would grow more agitated, and her legs would move up and down the mattress, as if she was having a bad dream. I never want to hear the sound again. 

I stayed with her for a few hours, looking around the room, and locking in the memories, but they aren't the memories I want. I want to only have the memories of joking with her, listening to her sarcasm, or her passion as she spoke about her patchwork. I'd even happily take her shopping, just one more time, following along in her wake as she loaded her trolley, with nothing she needed, and I unloaded it, while she wasn't looking, and put in what she actually did need. I'd listen to her constantly asking when one of the grandkids was going to have a baby, or get married, she already had 9 great grandkids, there was no need to be greedy lol. 

But, all of that is just what I want. Honestly, the peace she is now in, is better than what I want for her. When she started forgetting who I was, and then that she'd even ever had children, and was retreating into her childhood, we began to mourn her. She lived like that for a few years, and we knew that all we could do, was protect the memories for her. Alzheimer's just sucks the life out of you, slowly. It's not painful, like cancer, but there is no way back from that initial diagnosis. 

One thing I ask all of you to be sure you do, is to have an end of life plan. Mum avoided that, we made sure she had a will, and it was done, while she was still competent, but apart from her comment 'just burn me and dump me on the side of the road' she didn't want to talk about it. I had garnered from comments she had made, that she didn't want a funeral, she didn't want a fuss, once she was gone, she was gone, she didn't need the rest of it. So that's exactly what we gave her. She was in no way religious, and said all of the fuss was just a waste of money. 

The nursing home gave us 24 hours to have her picked up, we had no idea that that is what they would want, maybe I should have paid more attention to all the docs I signed, so please people, do that. Go over them with a fine tooth comb. We just presumed they had a morgue, but they didn't. Luckily, the ad that I'd seen, on TV and all the ads online, told me about BARE. They looked after Mum, and us, and we will be forever grateful. 

I had to call the home to find out about clearing out Mums room, they didn't advise us of that, and if I hadn't called, all of her photos would have just been dumped somewhere. She had nothing of value, it was just her photos and clothes. I was advised when I called that they wanted her room cleaned out within 5 days. We were shocked to find that most of the clothes she had, and the shoes, had to be thrown out, and didn't realise that the home wasn't doing that (at least with her shoes) when they wore out. So much stuff, all thrown out, but much was donated. 

I do have to say that the staff who cared for Mum were wonderful, all the rules are set by admin, so I have nothing but praise for her carers, and disdain for the admin who were incredibly uncaring and presumed that we didn't need to be told anything. 

Anyway, getting off of that subject because it just makes me mad all over again. 

We had a lovely service, with mostly family for her. At her age, and the fact that we had it on a week day, meant that there was never going to be a crowd. BARE had organised a slide show with the photos we chose, which was wonderful. We got way to much food, but I like to think she would have liked how small it was, and that she was happy with the way we said goodbye. If not, it's too late now Mum lol. 

I have photos around the house, and find myself talking to them, my older brother, is definitely being haunted by her, but he was always the favourite, so only has himself to blame lol. As per her will, her car (which she hasn't driven for years) was passed onto me, and I am now an official car owner, which is great, but is costing a lot lol. 

Anyway, that's pretty much it from me. Just wanted to pass on, that she had passed on, really, get some shit out of my head as I always do, by writing it down. 

Catch yas

Cathy 

Spiraling.

 

It's been a long, long time between blogs. But right now, this one is just cause I have to get it out of me. I'm hoping that doing this will get me back on track, mentally. 

It's like I'm finally admitting something so that I can move on, and it usually works, so here goes. 

The wonderful and oh so exciting downward spiral of mental health. Not sure why or how it creeps up on me, but it does, every fucking time. You would think that after years of this crap, I'd be better at recognising the signs lol. Not me. No wait, let me clarify, I do recognise the signs, but the signs aren't always there, and this time, they hid away from me, then pounced. Fuckers. 

Would be lovely to have an alarm going off in my head, 'Warning! Warning! Cathy you're spiraling!' Mental health, the gift that keeps on giving. 

I know that I'm not just talking about me, so many others I know go through the same, or similar, and get it, writing it out (who the fuck writes these days lol) helps me. Probably doesn't help everyone, but I do this for me, and maybe someone who is reading this will realise they aren't alone. 

Getting through a day at a time, takes effort. I make sure to keep it suppressed and only show the fun and seriously stupid side of myself. Probably not healthy, should probably see someone about that, but it works for me for the most part. Oh, and please don't think that I'm in some deep dark hole ready to end it all, cause I'm not, not ever. 

This is a process for me, it works, for me, and I will drag myself kicking and screaming from the pit, as I do. Do not take what I do and try it on yourself, this is not a how to guide, do not be Cathy. Find out what works for you, be it therapy, meds, or talking to someone you know. For me meds, will only get me to a certain point, so unless I am really, really bad, I don't take them. If I'm not bleeding or have a limb that's swinging in the breeze, I won't waste my doctors time. He's nice, just not what I personally need. That's not a mental health thing, that's a me thing, I don't go to a doctor if I'm feeling sick, I have to be at deaths door lol. 

I've taken meds over the years, they work for maybe 4 days, then stop. That's not mental health meds, that's most meds. When Don died, my doctor gave me something to help me sleep, worked incredibly well for 2 nights, then nothing. That's just me, I'm special lol. 

Last night, I actually slept almost the entire night for 7 hours, which is not my norm. I'm lucky to get 5 solid hrs, and it works for me. Just can't stay in bed and try to force more sleep, so I don't. My sleep pattern is not an issue, I'm used to it, and still work daily and work well. Sure I whine about it, but isn't that what people do? Am I whining cause I want to fit in? Maybe. Well, not fit in, but maybe show others that I'm not fucking mental lol. 

Anyway, downward spiral, blah blah, where was I, before my brain interrupted. 

Work has been tough, not because we have been super busy, but because of new things happening, and trying to get everyone up and running and trained, has made things tense lol. I'm not going to go into details, but people I work with, know what I'm talking about. 

Don't get me wrong, I love the tough, I love the tension, the stress, because I love searching for solutions, or looking for ways to make it easy to learn. I mean, we all know we sit in a training session, and it's mostly blah blah blah lol. I take notes, and break it down for me, translations as it were. I like black and white, Step 1, Step 2, Step 3 etc. I don't need all the stuff in the middle, and this works for me, but not for everyone, I get that. I'm also feeling excited, this is all new, and I love the tech and new stuff. I may be a boomer, but I'm not a sit on my arse and whine about kids these days, and all that tech that is rotting their brains, boomer. I'm a fuck, I love this shit, boomer lol. 

So, I have to pull myself out of this spiral, so I can get more enjoyment out of it. And I fucking will. 

I've just let everything shit creep in, and no one needs that. So here I am, typing away furiously and getting that shit out, I can almost feel it flowing out of the tips of my fingers as I type. No, I'm not crazy, this is just me lol. I'm surprised my keyboard isn't on fire lol. Before I had a pc, it was writing the shit out, getting it out of my head, like deep breathing. Hold it in, breathe it out, and while that works for me, not the deep breathing, but the words, then that's what I do. Deep breathing just reminds me of being in labor, or trying to get up those damn stairs lol. 

At work I let myself go, I'm sarcastic, funny and happy to be there. Yep, I know, how the fuck do I do that? It's because it's work, that's one world, then there's me in another world, post work. Sitting on my arse, in a daze, trying to figure out financial shit. Feeling the guilt of a child with a parent in care, feeling like a failure as a parent cause I don't have shit to give my adult kids or grandkids. 

Yeah, yeah, shut up I can hear you. I'll be back, don't worry, just have to get it the fuck out of me. We all do it, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't. It's just that sometimes, some of us, can't get it out and move on, all the fucking time. Some of us, just need that bit of an extra push, and this is me getting it out. Last night, I knew this was what I needed, but was way to exhausted to do it right. 

One thing I used to do, well I still do it, just not as much, but when I started the spiral, I would just get in the car and drive. Now, not so much, cause there are fuckers out there driving as well, too fucking many of them. The places I could drive to, to just breathe, are now filled with tourists, making noise. The peace is just not there. I don't want the tourists to go home lol, I'm not mean (well maybe I am) but I miss the peace. I miss the fact that no one but locals knew about the hidden gems. Maybe I just miss the fact that as a teen, we ruled our haven. We were far enough away from the city, that it made it harder for tourists to get here, and most didn't bother. For fucks sake, dudes we met in the city, thought we lived in the country and rode horses to get around lol. 

Getting back to work, just to add something. Work is my escape, 'say what' you are screaming lol, but it's true. As I said, I have fun, I'm a different person, I'm doing something that I really enjoy, and I get to vent to a bunch of other crazies and make them laugh. I hope that being me, helps my co workers out in some way, if it doesn't, oops, sorry/not sorry lol. 

And snap, back to reality lol. 

Anyway, I guess that's it. I already feel better, I've typed, I've cried, I've let it out. First step done. Second step is to do what I should be doing on a day off. Absolutely fucking nothing lol. And I mean it, weekends for me, aren't about the housework or anything else, it's time to do what I want to do. Even if that's sitting in front of the TV watching some mindless crap that gets me out of my head, then that's it. I can do housework during the week, weekends are meant to be a time to relax, so damn it, that's what I'll fucking do. 

Might go sit in the sun, and look at my yard, thinking to myself, that needs cutting, those weeds need pulling, but I'm not doing any of it lol. So I'll then laugh to myself thinking of my neighbours who take great care of their yards, and have chores for their kids every weekend. Yeh yeh, I know that some people only have weekends to do that shit, but this is about me, so piss off lol. 

Thanks for reading, thanks for not rolling your eyes, too hard while Cathy lets it out. 

Catchyas 

Cathy

Scars

Was surprised today, not in a good way, and totally random. This June it will be 30 years since my soul mate passed, 30 fucking years. So why today, and my brain is spinning with WTFs. 

Sure it's Valentines Day, big deal, means nothing to me, never really has. I never had a proper Valentines until I met Don. No boyfriends making grand gestures, no ex husband doing anything but forgetting what day it was. I may have gotten a bunch of flowers a couple of times, but that was it. With Don, it was different, he was a huge romantic, and ended up with me, who was the opposite, and thought it was just another day. Strange how life works. 

I still have the gorilla he gave me for our first Valentines, and the weird rabbit he got me for our last from the 7-11 lol. I remember vividly the delivery lady turning up with this basket containing the gorilla, flowers and a pair of see through lacy knickers in a little bottle. She had a huge smile on her face as she handed it over, and I was beyond embarrassed. This was a first for me, had never happened before, and I had no idea how I was supposed to react, and there was the fact I hadn't gotten him anything. To say it was completely alien to me, probably sounds strange, but that was my life before Don. 

I have a gorgeous bracelet, delicate lacy gold, that he got me another year. I don't wear it, not anymore, mostly cause it's impossible to do the fuckers up with one hand. But I keep it, safe with all the other things he gave me, with all his love. 

So why today, almost 30 years later, after life has moved on, after growing older, have I suddenly found it impossible to just sit there and read a valentines message without getting all teary and wondering what if? Even now, as I type, I'm tearing up, it's fucking ridiculous. 

Life has moved on, I no longer expect him to pull up on the Harley, or with his brother in law after work. The kids have all moved out, had kids of their own, well except for 1 lol. I'm older than he ever had a hope of being, and yet, here I sit, tearing up. Life can be a real mother fucker at times. 

Maybe it's because so much has been going on the last few years, I haven't really had time to bring up those memories, like I used. It's always easy to remember him, but when your brain is full of other shit, and your heart is aching over a different pain, then something has to get pushed to the side. Something has to sit on the side lines while you deal with all the other shit going on. I thought I was over this, I guess you really don't ever get over the loss, but surely the pain, after 30 years at least, shouldn't cripple you, just because of a certain day on the calendar. 

As I said, life has moved on, as it does and as it should. The flashbacks are less frequent, and more about remembering how great it was, the good times, and the fun times, rather than the loss itself. That last memory of his last night, down to the last fucking detail. Although that is still there, it's easier and easier to just skip over it, push it back down, and remember something funny that happened, or how his eyes would sparkle when he told some story about a customer at work. How he would laugh and laugh at the most random things, and how you couldn't help but laugh right along with him. So today, today has been fucked. I didn't want this, I don't need it, and it can fuck right off again.

Time heals all wounds they say, well, no time doesn't heal all wounds. Time can slap on a band aid, it can set a split, but the wounds are there, scars on your very self. Slap some makeup over them, and no one knows, but they are there, and there they remain. 

Catch yas

Cathy

Police State?

 

It was with great trepidation that I decided to head out and do some shopping, for me and for Xmas. I'd put it off too long, and what with having to obey the instructions for isolating at home from the government, I hadn't ventured outside my drive way for what felt like years. (I last went out on Thursday after work, but whatever.)

I walked out the door, looking around for guns trained on me, looking at my chest for that tell tale red dot, but nothing, so I scampered down the stairs to my car. I breathed a sigh of relief when I made it, locking the doors behind me. (no I didn't really lock the doors). I couldn't see anyone else out and about so I backed slowly up the driveway, only to see my neighbour crossing the road with a pair of secateurs in hand. I trembled, but continued as he wasn't running and shouting at me. He stopped me at the top of the driveway and I expected him to point his weapon at me and threaten me. Instead he greeted me, and said he was going to mow my lawn and do a bit of trimming for me. What a relief, I sure as shit don't want to be killed while idling in the car. 

I drove up the road, and spotted no cars, but as I turned the corner, there was another brave soul, venturing out. I expected they were just as scared as I was, both of us with a death grip on our steering wheels, huddled low in our seats. 

As I continued on my journey, I noticed people walking, not in groups of one, but in 2's and 3's, and families, taking the kids out for a ride on their bikes. Dogs being walked, people washing cars, or mowing lawns. I couldn't believe it, after all, America was set to invade to set us free from the tyranny we lived with. I joined the stream of cars heading down the mountain, thinking that at any moment a black hawk would drop in front of us and start firing, but we made it down alive. I kept an ear out for that tell tale thump thump of a chopper. 

I drove closer to the edge of my LGA, expecting the stream of cars to slow and stop while we passed through a check point into the neighbouring LGA, but there was nothing, just some idiot unable to do the speed limit. Well surely, there would be a checkpoint before we were allowed across the river, but no, again I was surprised to see that apart from traffic lights, nothing stopped me. I refused to be lulled into a false sense of security though, we've all seen the videos, the tik toks, and for fucks sake, Candace Owens was calling for the invasion, how could she possibly get it wrong? 

Reaching the car park, I followed a line of cars in and started searching for a parking space. I had to drive up 4 levels before finding anything, the car park is only 5 levels (at least that part is). Letting out a deep breath I turned off the car and looked around before getting out. Grabbed my mask, phone and wallet, then to the boot for a couple of shopping bags. Laughter rang out as a toddler in a stroller went into hysterics at the antics of their mother and father. Had to be the military in disguise, they'd even stolen a child to make their cover more real. 

Again, I checked for red dots, but on finding nothing walked into the plaza, only to be greeted by crowds upon crowds of people. People just like me, masks on, shopping bags in hand, doing ordinary everyday things. I couldn't believe my eyes, surely I was hallucinating it all. I was probably strapped to a gurney in an underground lab with everyone else, being kept in a coma as I was experimented on by my government? 

I headed towards Big W, and was stopped by a line, uh huh, here we go I thought to myself, but again I was wrong, it was just a line of people checking in with their smart phones, being greeted by a masked Big W employee. Sigh, how could this be? How could all those tik toks and videos be so very wrong, how could Candace be wrong?

Well folks, I did spend 15 minutes in a queue, there was no social distancing, just a queue of people with shopping, just like me, masked and waiting to get to the check outs. So much for a Police State lol. I have a hard time going out in crowds, don't like them, never will, but I braved it and survived without being arrested or confined by the military. In fact, I didn't see a single police car the whole time I was out. No military or police, walking the Plaza, unless they were in civvies and out and about with their families. 

The worst part of my trip, was the crowds, and I admit my mask is uncomfortable, but I will continue to wear it. If I can help protect one person, out of all those that were there today, then I'll be a happy camper. So, put away your guns, stow those invasion plans, turn off the jets and choppers, we are fine. In fact we are better than fine. I know there are people who have lost their jobs, some have lost their homes, but we are not living in a country that needs any help from America or anywhere else. Look after your own people, the hundreds of thousands that have died in your own country. But if you must keep pushing on with the plans, please share them on FB, we Aussies are having a hell of a good laugh at them all lol. 

Catch yas

Cathy

Do Not Speak for Me

 

Firstly I'm just going to say FUCK COVID. It's not the first time I've said it and I'm sure it won't be the last, and here's another one FUCK COVID DENIERS. Fuck the protesters, Fuck the refusing to wear a mask crowd (that does not include those with a medical exemption), Fuck the anti vaxxers, Fuck those that refuse the vaccine for no medical reason, FUCK THEM ALL TO HELL AND BACK. 

Regardless of what the recent protesters are trying to say, they do not march for all, they are not fighting for our freedoms, they are simply uncaring fuckers who care only for themselves. They carry signs about their rights to march and free speech, yada yada yada, and they have that right, under normal circumstances. The Public Health Act trumps those rights, and yet all these sheep, sit down in front of the PCs and are suddenly all lawyers and scientists. They hit on one thing, and stop, they don't continue to do research, they just stop and jump on the band wagon of some covid denier or some one who says the Government is taking away their rights, and bam, suddenly the rest of us are sheep, while these cult wannabes go about destroying the freedoms of the rest of us. Yep, the rest of us, who follow the rules because we don't want our family, our neighbours, our friends, fucking dying!!!!

They call those of us following the rules, sheep, because we follow the rules. We are actually law abiding citizens, we aren't the ones being herded down the black web by some random idiot on Instagram, Twitter, FB, or You Tube. No gorgeous model, male or female, is going to tell me to trust them, and not the medical profession. I'm not going to bitch about Doctors and how they don't tell me what to do, or how they work for big Pharma, and then go find some fucking holistic creep, who sells me a bunch of oils that make me smell like I've been soaking in 10 mth old piss. Although that is one way to get people to social distance, but I digress. I'm not going to follow someone who calls himself a doctor, despite being stripped of his medical license.

Like many others, I'm overwhelmed, my brain is fried, I'm angry, I've had enough, I'm depressed, I want to scream, I want to punch someone, I just want my life back, and I cry constantly. But unlike some people, I will do everything in my power to get my life back, I will wear a mask, I will practice social distancing, I'll stay home, I'll only shop for essentials, I'll miss my family, I'll get vaccinated, and I'll continue to cry. I want nothing more than to jump in my car, and have a catch up with family, or just go on a simple drive, not stopping anywhere or visiting someone, just drive, but I can't and I won't disobey the law. 

Don't come at me with your bullshit about how many people who have been vaxxed have died, I can come back at you with much higher figures of people who have died from Covid. People who have died alone, struggling to breathe, while their family can do nothing but wait for that phone call. Don't come at me with your bullshit, about, it's just an engagement party, we have the right to celebrate, well I have the right to think you are a total fucking idiot, who let infected people socialise and spread Covid. We should sue you all for infringing on our rights, and donate the winnings to research for a cure, because we know there isn't a cure, just a preventative really. Don't come at me with crap about me still being able to get Covid, do you think I'm a fucking idiot, and didn't read everything I could about the vaccine? I know that I could still get Covid, but unlike you, I also know that the chances of me ending up stuck on a ventilator because of Covid, are very slim. Of course there's also the fact, that I stay at home, and am less likely to either get Covid, or spread it. 

So, to all you protesters, you don't speak for me, you are not protecting me, you are not fighting for my freedom. You are in fact, having a tantrum, like a fucking 2 yr old. You are the reason we continue to have horrific numbers of covid cases, you are the reason we are still stuck at home, and unable to live our normal lives. (Side note: those of you who may not go out and march, but still refuse to follow the Public Health laws are considered protesters) Do I think the Government fucked up, damn straight I do. But that doesn't mean I won't do everything in my power to set this country to rights again, to get us all back working, and hanging out with friends and family. 

Just want to add, to anyone who is feeling depressed and overwhelmed, please reach out to someone, there is counselling available in all countries over the phone, people who will happily talk to you. You may feel alone, but please remember you aren't, we are all in this together, no matter what part of the world we live in. 

Catch yas 

Cathy

Dad

 

My Dad died on the 2nd June 2021, his funeral was yesterday, 10th June 2021.     

Before his funeral, his partner Lyn, sent us a missive written by Dad when he was 76. It was hard to read, but at the same time, a must read. I now have so much more understanding of why he was the father and man he was. 

We learnt so many things about him, that we had no idea about, simple things like the fact he was a Scout Leader in 1958, the year the first of us was born, so no surprise we didn't know. The fact that he was in the Blaxland Progress Association, I didn't even know there was one lol. But the biggest thing was about his childhood, how he and his sister grew up after their mother died so young. 

It explained so much about why he was who he was, why he acted the way he did. Any one that thinks you aren't a product of your childhood is mistaken. I'm not saying that if you were abused, you'll be an abuser, but there is going to be something that shapes us. If we were abused, it's a choice to turn around and do the same or to be completely different. Dad wasn't abused by the way, at least not physically, but I think in a way he was abused mentally. The world was a different place, WW2 came when he was a child, his widowed father wanted to do his bit, and did, but it meant his children had to live with relatives. And that they were split up in the end, meaning that when they tried to connect later in life, they were worlds apart. Don't get me wrong, Dad loved his sister Janice, as did we all, but there was never the bond that he wished they'd had.     

He lived all over the place, I'm not going to list them, and I believe because of that, he preferred the peace of his own company, instead of hunting out people to converse with and form relationships with. He couldn't relate to many because his life was so different.  When he became a father, he had no reference point. He had no idea what was expected of him, as he hadn't been properly fathered himself. When his Dad returned to his life, and Dad moved back in with him, Dad was already 12, a very independent 12. He had a Dad that didn't know how to be a Dad and he didn't know how to be a son. 

Probably because of all the women he and his sister lived with, he became somewhat of a feminist. Which worked out great since Mum was very much a feminist, no man was going to tell her she couldn't work lol. When I came along, he was not going to be the sort of man to keep his daughter locked up and relying on a man. But, at the same time, as I grew up, and became the rebel daughter, I'd catch glimpses of the chauvinist in him. If I came home late from a friends, I was questioned relentlessly, and yet my brothers could do the same, and there was no issue. The boys had outside chores, mine were all confined to the house. I was encouraged to learn to drive, to get a job, and even bought my first car of him. He never told me or made me feel, that I was less than my brothers in all the ways that count. 

He was not demonstrative, but we knew we were loved. I don't think he knew how to be demonstrative with us, and that hurts me to the core. But I have a better understanding of it, now I know more about how he was shaped. He talked about how he 'abandoned' Mum, his word not mine. I feel that he judged himself harshly with that word. Not saying he didn't leave her and that he broke all our hearts, but she wasn't left penniless on the street with 3 kids to care for. He left her, yes, but he left a strong woman that grew and didn't wither away and die without a man to protect her. There is still feelings of resentment there for his action, but I think it's more the fact that when Mum developed Alzheimers, it was supposed to be the man who'd promised to love and honour her caring for her, not her children. I, for one deeply resented him for that, but I still loved him regardless. 

My feelings have been all over the place as I've read his words and learnt so much about him. Hearing the words of others at his funeral also shaped a picture of someone I didn't even know. He wrote about my leaving my ex husband, and his belief that I was keeping the girls from their father. That hurt me, the fact that he thought that I would or could even do something like that, was like being stabbed in the heart. For the record, I didn't stop him from seeing his kids, he chose to stop seeing them. Didn't even tell me, just didn't turn up to pick them up, and didn't answer his phone. He left it up to a friend of mine to tell me Who the fuck does that sort of shit. But his words were written 9 years ago, I would like to believe that he had learnt the truth from my musings, at the very least. 

Regardless of how we were as kids, or how Dad was, we knew he was proud of us. We connected better as adults than we ever did when we were younger, and that makes me sad, but it is what it is, there is no going back. He loved his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren with a passion. He'd play games with them, listen to their tales, and watch them play with delight, they are his legacy. He may not have been able to parent as he should have, but he was a wonder to watch when playing with the grandkids and great grandkids. 

I'm happy that he had 40 wonderful years with Lyn, and that he turned into the man he may have been if he'd had the chance when younger. I'm glad he was loved, and had someone by his side while he dealt with the 11 years of cancer. And I'm glad he had barely any pain that whole time, and that he only had to spend 24 hrs in palliative care before he left this world. I will miss him for as long as I live, but shall celebrate the fact he went as quickly as he wanted, and lived his life to the fullest, right up until that end. 

My cousin and I, imagine that he is with his Mum, Dad and sister Janice, maybe sitting around a table and getting to know each other, as they should have been able to, all those years ago. 

A chapter has closed, a new one will begin. Love ya Dad 💓

'The Reaper comes for us all when he is ready. There is no extension of time, or pleas that will turn him from our door. He does not listen when we say we aren't ready, that we need more time to tell someone we love them, he doesn't care. Spend your lives wisely, enjoy, live, love, laugh and cry. Be sure those you leave behind, know about you, open yourself to them, they won't turn away, they will embrace your honesty and love.'

Catch yas

Cathy

Life in the Twilight Zone - Help I'm turning into my Mother

 

Maybe not, but lately I've been noticing stuff I'm doing or thinking that takes me back to Mum's house lol. 

I was looking for something appetising in the pantry and thought, oh a cup of soup would be great, putt out 5 boxes, unopened, every single one of them had expired. Chucked them all in the bin, but had a sigh of relief at the thought that they were only a year expired, not 5 like some of Mums lol. 

Ares, will get restless and open up my kitchen dresser, and drag things out that he then proceeds to push under the dresser. Little shit that he is. That means I have to get down on hands and knees to try and get them out, and I'm not as young as I used to be, getting down isn't so bad, it's getting back up that's a killer. I started going through solutions, like kids locks (actually still had a couple but got rid of them a while ago) and hit on, a basket to put in the cupboard and hold everything that he drags out. 

I started planning a trip to buy some, then stopped in my tracks. Mum had little storage baskets all over the damn place, mostly where they weren't needed, and all those that weren't sold at the garage sale, had to be donated or thrown out, depending on the condition of them. Mostly they were thrown out cause they were broken, but when she'd replaced, she didn't replace. Just kept using the broken ones, and found something else to shove into the new ones. 

Hence, am I turning into my Mother lol. At that horrifying thought a clean out ensued. I don't want anyone to have to come into my house and be as horrified as I was when faced with the crap Mum had. Pantry and fridge all clean, cupboards gone through to ensure nothing was there that I didn't actually use or need. Bin filling up lol. I then attacked my wardrobe, got rid of 3 bags of stuff I don't wear, and won't wear again. That all got donated. I don't have a lot of shoes, but I went through them as well, actually found a pair of boots that I love but had forgotten about and was even looking at buying some new ones exactly the same lol. 

As to the stuff in the dresser, I did find a container that I can use, I'm pretty sure it was one of Mums, eeekkkk, but it will work, and it means I didn't go out and buy something like she would lol. 

I realised that I make a conscience effort not to hoard like she did. I get a jar, wash it out and recycle, rubber bands, see ya, don't wear those clothes anymore, they are off to donation, anything broken, it's thrown out cause lets face it, I'm never going to fix the fucker lol. I've been watching a few episodes of hoarders, mind boggling shit, and Mum was never that bad that you had to make a path through piles and piles of crap. Everything she hoarded had a place, and nothing exploded or fell down. She didn't have mice or rats, or cockroaches, just crap, saved neatly and cleanly but crap none the less. 

Oh, the coat hangers, forgot the coat hangers lol. Every time she bought something, she bought it with a hanger, those cheap plastic crap ones. She had hundreds of hangers, probably thousands, and no clothes to go on them. So they all went as well. I never bring hangers home with clothes I buy, and I'll get rid of something old when replacing it with something new. In a way, I guess, I have her to thank for it. Mind you I have a collection of every single card I've ever gotten, going back to the cards from when I was born lol. But they are neatly boxed up and stored away, and if I miss one it's not a big deal. 

I also have a box with some memorabilia for my son from his Dad. He never got to know him, so it's a fun thing for him to have just to get a glimpse into his Dad's life. Again that is all just in a box stored away with the cards. And there's another of stuff I just like as memories, some old school books, old school tie etc. So 3 boxes of stuff, and they are small boxes, not big ones. I do have a lot of photo albums, and loose photos. They are mostly Mum's, her history, and her families history, stuff I don't want my kids or their kids to forget about. The grandkids love looking through them, cracks them up lol. The more I go on, the bigger the load of crap I have lol. I do regularly sort through it though, and chuck stuff out. I don't save shit, for shits sake, like Mum did. I mean, a rubber band jar that was her mothers? Seriously, that got chucked as soon as I started cleaning lol. 

I'm going to stop now, need to do some more clearing out, now that I've typed out all the crap I have, it needs culling lol. 

Catch yas

Cathy