If one more person tells me, "You HAVE to take care of yourself", I am going to punch them in the face !!
This stupid remark is always said with the very best intentions. I know that because I have been guilty of telling many people the very same thing. "You are no good to anyone if you don't take care of YOURSELF!" makes total and complete sense except for the fact that when you are in the midst of chaos and your life is sucking to the tenth degree you REALLY do NOT want some well meaning person saying you need to take care of yourself.
I would love to "take care of myself" but right now that is just not an option. Things need to be done and since no one else is stepping up to do them you know who gets to be number one. A very dubious distinction at best.
It has been Hell for the past month. The devil knew exactly what buttons to push and what my very own private hell would be and then he maneuvered me into the worst possible place at the worst possible time. Thankfully I do have God at my back who has been the ONLY way I have kept from driving off a bridge.
My Hell has revolved around my "darling" Cousin Lucille. I may have written about the large leak she had in her house this past August and the awful mess she was left with. Insurance company paid for the clean up but the repairs and remodeling of the guest bath, guest room and living room were left for Lucille to manage. The insurance company gave her a check for what they thought the work and replacement carpet and bathroom vanity would cost but dear cousin Lu put the check in the bank and left the mess for another day. She had been living in 3 rooms of her house while the other rooms were left with no flooring and the furniture pushed into the middle of the rooms. It was DISGUSTING because the dog thought this was it's on personal poop park so it just squatted where ever, when ever it chose. But of course Cousin Lu did not see any of this because she did not go into those rooms.
In Lucille's defense I must tell you she is 91 years old and the dog is 14 so between the two of them we really can't expect much.
The woman has 2 step children who call her but DO NOTHING. So it is up to me to make it all right. Could I just say, "NOPE, NOT MY PROBLEM" ? Sure, but you know I can't do that. My parents taught me too well to take care of those around me and because I have no siblings my "family" consists of 5 cousins, of which Lucille is the oldest and the one living nearest to me. Ever since her husband died 14 year ago she has turned to me EVERY time there is a problem. That is the only time I hear from her.
Bottom line, I searched, visited and set up appointments at different "Senior Residences" near me in order to move the princess out of her house and into someplace that could monitor her. I attempted to do this with her 2 years ago but she "WASN'T READY YET!" My drive back and forth to Port St. Lucie takes an hour each way and was becoming a weekly chore thus the decision on both her and my part to move her to Jupiter which is only 15 minutes away, (if I don't get caught by the draw bridge).
The big move happened this past Tuesday. I was up at 5 AM to get up to her to pack up the last of her crap before the movers arrived. And so begins the REAL nightmare.
For the past year or more Lucille has had an aide coming into her home every day for 3 or more hours. Once the decision was made to move from the house I had the aide packing up Lucilles stuff. I was up there several times working with the aide, explaining how I wanted the boxes placed so we would know what was going and what was staying.
Moving day was CHAOS !!!! Lucille invited neighbors over to say good bye. She had her financial advisor come over to say good-bye, AND she had her aide come in who kept moving boxes around. Lucille kept walking around picking up things saying, "Oh, I want to take this" . . . (I had been with her on 3 separate days prior to moving where we went through cabinets and closets making decisions about what to pack or leave, all to no avail come moving day.). When I finally got her out of the house and into my car we drove down to her new residence where we met the moving people. I handed Lucille over to the amazing staff at the residence while I directed the movers where to place her furniture. We set it all up, made her bed and brought her up to her new home. She had visited the residence previously and loved it . . . Of COURSE she loved it . . . EVERY day from 4-6 the lounge is open with a fully stocked bar and a very personable bar tender. Drinks are half price, entertainment is provided and they have olives to put in her martini.
I understand it is a trauma for the old girl. BUT she is making it miserable for me. I was with her all day Tuesday from 5 AM when I got up to drive up to Port St. Lucie till 8 PM when she finally settled down in her new home. Wednesday I was with her from 9 AM to 6:30 PM unpacking, putting things away, getting the cable guy to set up her TV and phone. It was at that point I realized we were missing a BUNCH of things from her house. Boxes with her old phone in them, Waterford crystal, kitchen plates, the dog's bed and toys . . . the list goes on. I have NO idea where these things are or how they got left behind. OH Wait . . . I do know how they got left behind . . . with all the freaking people coming and going and in the way on moving day at her house it's a wonder we remembered to bring Lucille. I was running between the movers, dodging visitors, stepping over the damn dog and packing up all the last minute shit that Lu decided she needed. She and the aide had packed NOTHING from her bathroom or her bedroom closet. God bless the movers, I just told them to throw EVERYTHING into boxes and we'd sort it out later. That crap got there, other stuff did not.
And so now I have to drive back up to her old home to try to find all the missing boxes. Sounds easy enough EXCEPT for the fact that Lucille is selling the house to her long time friend and next door neighbors daughter. Because the daughter and spouse are now living with the mother next door to Lucilles house Lucille saw fit to give them the keys to the house so they could come in and start working on the place. Only one problem . . . the buyers apparently went into the house the same day we left it and started EMPTYING it out . . . I TOLD them I was coming back on the weekend to go through the things that were left because I KNEW we were bound to have forgotten something. Well, the vultures went in and started throwing out stuff . . . I called them on Wednesday to say I'd be up on Sunday to look for all the missing boxes and I was met with dead silence . . . "Oh, we cleared out a bunch of stuff" . . .
Yes, I am living in Hell. Don't know what I will find tomorrow but I do know I better not bring a gun with me because blood will be spilled.
Speaking of spilling blood . . . the absolute complete topper to this miserable week was last night as I returned from a quick 2 hour visit to Lucille, (after spending 4 hours at the car dealer with The Man to have his "new" car fixed), I pulled into my parking spot, gathered my stuff, climbed out of my car and SLAMMED my thumb in my car door. I didn't know it was possible to slam your own finger in your car door but it is now a proven fact that it is quite possible. Once I stopped crying I walked up to my house and BEGGED God for some help here. I'm on my final "straw".
So when The Man and my loving daughter told me today to "TAKE CARE OF MYSELF" I had to choke back the plethora of curses because I know they love me and really are concerned about the toll this is taking on me but I REALLY DO NOT want to hear that platitude EVER again unless you are handing me a one way ticket for a cruise to an uninhabited island in the Caribbean.
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