Those of you easily offended by death-related things, look away. My FiL's ashes were returned to us in a thick plastic bag in a bronze-colored heavy plastic box with a law-required sticker, an ID, or a facility number or whatever, law required sticker on the plastic box. His ashes were scattered, and the empty box was left in H's custody.
When we picked up StE's ashes we took the box for them to put them in. They regarded us kind of askance. "We'll have to put a new sticker on it."
"Oh, that's fine. He'll (I gestured to H) probably use it, and then me, and then we have another son who will no doubt plan to use it, too. The box can just collect stickers for each of us, you know, like a world-traveled steamer trunk."
They tried to stifle the grins until we nodded and smiled at them. And then they looked at us like we'd got our party hats on backwards or something, and their smiles were undecided whether to honestly laugh or just humor us. But they went ahead and reused the box.
My mom won't even talk to me about planning to move to a retirement apartment. She thinks I am too bossy and clams up. Maria is my person, so I am set unless she predecessors me, which would be unusual since her family lives to be 110 on the regular, and mine craps out at 75ish. But I should probably have a more clear directive for her. Her mom is 10 years older than my mother, and like 100% more spry!
So it's possible that ltc really did have a stomach bug and not just the pneumonia because that is what TCG had yesterday, and I suddenly feel like I have a lead weight in the pit of my stomach.
I can maybe talk to my therapist next time about how to coax her to talk about it. I mean, I know I am a little bossy, but with most people (not my mother or Maria) I can frame things so they don't notice my bossy pants. Which I can't do with either of them because they know me too well and sense the bossy ness.
Oh no, sj! Good luck.
I don't have any of my own shit together, and I know I should.
My family talks about death all the time. So, I know what they want. We got our will and finances together after ltc was born because it just seemed like the responsible thing to do along with picking a guardian for ltc if anything were to happen to both of us.
Thanks, Sophia and Jesse. We're supposed to be leaving for Mom's after school on Wednesday. My hope is that we're all better and somehow I can get laundry and packing done by then.
And some good work news. My old boss (again) proposed me becoming the assistant director of our Center. The Dean was actually on board, but we can't call it assistant director until I actually earn my master's and probably doctorate and probably become faculty, not staff . So we need some sort of title that is above "Program Coordinator/Admin Assistant) but is not assistant director, because that would cause chaos. And I have nothing. Because in every other school in our University, the faculty overseeing the department are Chairs, and the staff are directors and assistant directors. But in our school, the faculty are directors and the staff are administrators. But they also can't have me be an administrator, because "there is only one". But I basically got to describe my dream job to the associate dean, and she was on board with it- we just have to think of how we word it so I keep my increased pay and salary status, and basically don't piss off the PhD prepared program directors.
My dad is 91 and still has not planned his funeral. He did have us buy the plot next to my mom when we were arranging her funeral, but now says he wants to be cremated and buried in mom's plot.
Having to make all those decisions for my mom while still in shock over her dying was terrible. And so fucking expensive. My mom would have been horrified that her funeral cost so much. The only thing she would have liked were the flowers.
