Left a message.

eta sent an email, too. Going to bed now but will let y'all know when I hear from bonny.

I'm sure we'll manage something. My mom is launching into such major things that I had to remind her unless she started into something that would be so noisy and full of dust that it completely ruined the thing. Plus I need access to the kitchen in order to be able to make food for it. That cabinet hinge job would be in the kitchen.

Today she had my brother out with garden power tools everywhere, digging stuff up, etc. But, really, I'm depressed that when I speak it's like I'm not even there (this is not the first time it's happened) and the fact that she keeps forgetting my birthday. Which is unlike her. It's not like they're playing at this as a joke in order to throw a surprise party.

I know things in my life could be a lot worse than they are now. But I've been dealing with a lot of unexpected stuff on top of the expected stressors and I'm just kinda losing my shit. I'm not as able to roll with the punches. My birthday is always important to me no matter how anti-climactic it usually is. I guess I was looking forward to it as a little respite from what's going on.

I'm sure I'll get to checking in to individual therapists as well. I was seeing someone on a sliding scale for years. But I kinda think individuals aren't going to go as low as I need.

Spidra, it's your birthday? Happy Day!

The family practice might be able to direct you to someone.

Heh! Not today, Pix, but tomorrow. Thanks!

~ma, lisah.

So, tonight was the memorial service for my Uncle Steve. It was...exactly what he would have wanted. It was at the kind of hall that can be rented for weddings, sort of like a VFW. Very casual. His kids (you know, "kids" my age) had made up t-shirts with pictures of him on them. The hall opened up to an outdoor area with a gazebo (for weddings, I guess) and a wee pond. There were people playing cornhole by the pond, and a dude with a Casio keyboard playing Uncle Steve's favorite music, and (Tim and I got there too late for this) some people who got up and spoke.

There was a crapload -- like, a crapload and a half -- of pictures of him and various family members. And I realized that I literally don't know when the last time I saw him was. My guess is 8-10 years ago. And so the more recent pictures really made me sad -- he had massive damage to his heart from a heart attack, so not much of the muscle worked any more. And because of that, he had a fair amount of edema and was very puffy and pale. But still, in all the pictures, he was smiling and happy. There was even a picture of him in the hospital with one of those shower cap thingies you have to wear for surgery, and he looked pleased as you can be.

My dad had 7 siblings; 2 of his brothers died back in the 80s, leaving 6 of them. And now they're down to 5 (including Dad). And the youngest one, my Uncle Dutch, who is the only one who never had any of the heart problems the rest of them did (seriously; it got to be a running joke that maybe he had a different dad from the rest of them) is in really, REALLY bad shape. Oh my god. I don't know what's wrong, but he's horribly, rail-thin, and jaundiced, and...just looks very very bad. Dad and my other aunts and uncles kept saying, "Dutch is going to be next, and it's going to be soon."

Dad told Uncle Dutch to get to the hospital, and Uncle Dutch got annoyed with Dad. What can you do, though? You love your family, so you feel like you have to at least say something, that it's the least you can do, and sometimes all you can do.

It was hard, and weird -- I hadn't seen a lot of my aunts and uncles in at least 5 years, and even longer for my cousins. But it was also good to see them. And Tim was a trouper, getting a bushel full of relatives sprung on him that he'd never met before, and meeting them all at once.

But, now -- ENOUGH. No more bad stuff, please. That includes for my Buffistas (Drew, bonny, etc.) and their loved ones.

That's good that it's what he would have wanted, Steph. He sounds like a great guy. I hope your Uncle Dutch gets seen to soon. I'm assuming it's the same doctor-avoidance-stubbornness a lot of men have?

Things are a little bit better tonight. Once Mom decided she was done with the projects for the moment and kinda came back to the land of the living...

I'm going to haul my laptop downstairs and start baking a devil's food cake from scratch.

Continued ~ma for the many Buffistas who need it. It's been a rough year, hasn't it?