Thank you for protesting, Shir.

I don't know why they make dealing with death so hard. I mean, everyone does it. I just remember after my grandfather died, my grandmother could NOT get something cancelled, nor could my uncle who lived near her. Finally when we were out visiting, my father called and said, "I'm [his name] and I want to cancel my service." No problem! My father was a junior, and my uncle isn't a liar.

Shir, I am endlessly impressed by your courage and conviction and am thinking about everyone caught up in this horror. Thank you for protesting.

In other news, goodness, everyone has been so productive today! Well done, friends. I need to switch into productive mode to get ready to leave for the spring high school journalism convention in the morning (part two of the spring break that is the opposite of a break), but, instead, I have gotten home from getting a sassier, shorter, blonder haircut — definitely a treat — and am flopped with a cat. Even though I don't take students to the spring convention, it's a very packed schedule for me every day with all my board responsibilities, so I'm trying to store up a little respite before the marathon starts. It's in Kansas City, MO, so I have a long day of flying with a connection, and then I'm scheduled within an inch of my life Thursday through Saturday night, when I fly home. Then one day to try to get ready to be back in class. Ugh.

The death bureaucracy parade marches on, for sure. So sorry you're dealing with it, David. I'm still in it, too. I got a lot done on my trip to Florida last week, including finally getting the title of Dad's car into my name so I could sell it, and we put the finishing touches on the condo so it could go on the market (ND and friends replaced all the crappy old outlets and switches with new ones, and it looks so much better). It's been on the market about 24 hours. Please send easy-contract-and-closing-at-asking-price thoughts that way.

I was already on Dad's bank account as a joint owner, but I'm running into the same issue with the bank saying they have to close the old account and open a new one now that it's just me. It doesn't feel worth it since there's only about a thousand dollars left there, but I don't want to close his account until I know for sure I've caught all the autopays. I also ran into the name/account issue with the condo utilities — they won't let me transfer the existing accounts into my name, and the alternative was me opening new accounts and having to pay hundreds of dollars of deposits for a condo I hope to have sold in a month; not the best option. Finally, they let me just update the banking info without closing his accounts, so I'm letting them sit until the condo sells and I can officially turn off the utilities.

Then there was all the emotional stuff. Having to deal with Dad's ashes, physically, was harder and weirder than I expected it to be. I had to divide them in two, which involved a zip lock bag, nail clippers, and a screwdriver, and it was...I don't know. Funny, in a way, but also heartbreaking. It was too choppy to go out on a boat as planned, so I scattered the first half of them at sunrise off a beautiful pier by a lighthouse with ND, our friend T, our own Laura, and her DH. It was lovely and sad. I then had to package up and mail the container to CT to my mom's house (which is legal, btw, so long as you follow procedure) so I can scatter the other half when we are there in June. I'm planning to bring the wooden container with his ashes to his celebration of life and then go out with some friends with a boat the next good-weather day to scatter the rest. It seems right to have him in both the Florida and Connecticut Atlantic Ocean. But that was also weird ("So, Mom, how do you feel about me mailing half of Dad to you?"). Mom is a trooper and said yes, but what a weird ask.

Anyway, I'm nattering on. I'm doing okay overall. Just feeling tired and wishing I'd had at least a little time during this break to actually relax. But that will come. ND and I scheduled a trip to Ireland in June after the celebration and family stuff in New England, which will be wonderful. We have spent a lot of time in NI, but we've never explored the majority of the Republic. We will be road-tripping around the west coast a bit (Limerick, Killarney, Galway) before driving back to NI to spend time with our beloved family there. The other thing I'm very excited about is our plan for Christmas. We've been going to Florida to spend time with my dad every year for more than a decade, so ND urged me to pick something different and fun to do to take my mind off the inevitable sadness. After some research and an informal FB poll, we decided on Edinburgh from Dec. 27-Jan. 3. I've never been, and ND hasn't been there since he was a teenager. We will be exploring Edinburgh's festive Christmas market and winter festivals and then celebrating Hogmanay in their incredible street festival. How did I never know about Hogmanay?? Google it to learn more and see the details of the Edinburgh celebration. What a hoot!

So some lovely things to look forward to amid the sad and stressful. And I'm always grateful for friends and community.

Pix, you and Drew did an amazing amount in your short visit. Sending all kinds of quick sale ~ma. The excursions sound wonderful. I have to do some planning for much more travel in my life. I think DH is backing off basketball which will make it a lot easier.

Ooh I’ve been wanting to go to Hogmanay !!! And, generally, back to spend more time in Edinburgh.

I'm so glad you have some fun vacations planned, Pix! They sound great!

Just because I'm not surprised, Hec, doesn't mean I don't feel for you with all my heart. But I did once have to go to a bank to prove I closed my account from twenty years ago. Because I might still have it, and thereby, not be impaired. Thank God the guy at the bank was an immigrant named Igor.(If you can find an immigrant to help, do that. Great Replacement could literally not happen quickly enough, if I got a vote.)

America leaves nobody behind. (it's hard for me to be nice to people that mean this. If they're not twelve.) Related: My dad will NEVER learn my birthdate, properly.

How wonderful, Pix! That sounds just about perfect.

I'm desperately eager to get to Scotland so I'll want you to take lots of notes.

Thank God the guy at the bank was an immigrant named Igor.

Hey, my dad is an immigrant named Igor! Pretty sure he never worked in a bank, though. Always labs.