Moving to Decatur, Part 2: HOME, WTF, HOME

 

If there's a place that exists between utter disaster and heavenly abode, my house is that place.

The first night we walked into the house and the lights didn't turn on. All that worked was the second bedroom, hall and bathroom lights. We were in the dark, lost and hungry,

Within a short time the flaws of the house became clear. Every improvement done in this house was done by the owner, a young man with a great eye for design but no knowledge of wiring, plumbing or anything else. The bathroom had no caulk anywhere, molding was falling off the walls, the dishwasher leaks, the lights all need replacing ...

So we've been doing things step by step. The bathroom was fixed. My bedroom has a working light. We have put together furniture.

The things I wanted have taken a back seat to the things I need. But we're getting there. Slowly and surely. And the thing is that I know the work we're doing now will benefit me in years to come.

I love this house. It's draining me but I love it.

Moving to Decatur: Part One Catastrophic Travel

 2 boxes. 2 suitcases. 2 plastic crates and 2 cats in hard carriers. My friends Cindy and Bob had dropped the crates off to my brother Mitch earlier. My neighbor Ashley helped me with everything else. We packed the car. We brought the cats out and before they were put in the car Wednesday busted the door off the crate and disappeared. We called. We brought out treats. We begged but Wednesday was gone and there was a flight to catch.

I still can't properly think about it without feeling the greatest sense of loss. I had already lost Kitara and now Wednesday. I held Murder a little closer and we continued. There was a flight to catch,

We drove to my brother's house and loaded my bags and boxes into his car as well as Murder. I signed my car over to Mitch, gave his wife a hug and off we went to the airport.

Alaska Airlines in Kona. 2 crates, 2 boxes, 2 suitcases, one cat who I had bought a seat for and myself. I check in and the gal behind the counter tells me that Murder is in the wrong kind of carrier. No, I respond, Murder is in the carrier that the woman from the airline told me she had to have. The clerk disappears for 20 minutes and then comes back and tells me that Murder is in the wrong carrier and must go into cargo. I'm unhappy but say okay. Then I give the lady the paperwork for Murder and it's the wrong paperwork. 

Now I'm being told that Murder can't fly at all. I'm sobbing. I cannot leave this cat behind. The clerk disappears again. I'm panicking and call my brother who is almost back home and ask him to head back to the airport. The clerk returns and says that Murder can fly but she has to fly in the cabin, without the health certificate they won't be responsible for her. I call my brother back. I'm so grateful to have Murder still with me. 

Pn the plane I had booked myself the window seat and Murder the middle seat. Murder had to take the window seat. Whatever. She was a trooper all the way. No crying, no panic. I know she was miserable but she stayed calm.

We had a layover in Seattle and there I was approached by someone who told me that Murder was in the wrong carrier and couldn't fly. I was not very pleasant. He came back and apologized. Then a woman came up to me and said I needed to pay additional fees for the cat. At this point I was bitchy. She left and didn't come back.Later I'm approached and told the airline is giving me additional miles to use.Ha. Like I'll ever fly them again.

The flight to Chicago is uneventful. We're met by a car who drives us to Decatur.The drive was lovely. There was snow on the ground. But we made it home.

Happy Merry

Life is not for the faint hearted. Moving is for the extremely stupid. I need to sleep for a week.

My siblings are still in Asheville and will be leaving on Friday. Hospice is involved and they confirmed that our father is in the end of life but it isn't going to be a quick transition. He still has some muscle and can get out of bed and sit in his chair. He eats a few bites of food. He is fading but slowly. There's no timeline on it. But it's not going to happen this week.

He sleeps about 20 hours a day and he has a lot of confusion. He called me today and was able to have some conversation, not a lot but he checked in on the house sale and moving. 

I move one week from today. There's really nothing much left to do. I got 2 plastic totes to take on the plane to pack my blankets and kitchen must-haves. Still trying to find a home for one cat. But I'm done. Just finito. Between all this I'm stressed to my limits. 

I keep forgetting it's the holidays. I had to apologize to Mollie because I forgot completely. Thank God she's 24 cause all she wants is money anyway.

I'm just praying that this week passes quickly. Once I'm on a plane life will look so much better.

Another Mess in a Messy Life

 

Yesterday I bought a house, today the movers came and today hospice was called for my father. My current home is empty, there's me and cats and a bunch of destroyed cat trees (my cats are hard on cat trees).I have thoughts. I have feelings. I have a lot of confusion.

I cried when I heard about my father. My brother and sister are going to Asheville tomorrow, I am not. My life is too much chaos as is and that would be way too much for me to do. Right now I'm doing what I do well: organizing. Organizing my leaving, organizing my life and my cats and keeping myself in check.

It's complicated to have a dying father who was a rat bastard and caused so much hurt. A part of me still feels that the world will be better with him out of it. But he has also proven to be remorseful (or he has acted it well). What he did is unforgivable. The number of people he hurt over the years is a list way too long. 

But he's my father. And he came into our lives after a 40+ year of estrangement and has done what he can to make our lives easier. He did apologize. That was unexpected. My sister calls him Dad. I call him Arnold still. I won't acknowledge him with vulnerability.

Anyway, it's all so complicated. I should be excited about my house but right now excitement isn't here. I'm conflicted, I'm messy. 

And knowing how fucked up this world is, I wouldn't be surprised if he pulls through somehow and just did all this to get his kids to visit again.

Two Weeks Notice

Two weeks till I get on a plane and go to a state I've never set foot in to a town I found on a Google search to live in a house I own that I haven't really seen to begin a new chapter of my life.

Cool beans.

Right now my concern is just getting everything packed. I've done pretty well and all I have left is books, k-pop collection and kitchen. I think K-pop collection will be sent USPS right before I leave so I can get it quicker and set it up. It will give me a little more joy to have my boys/men surrounding me in the new space. 

I'm cycling through excitement, depression and anxiety. I know I've done a lot and it will all be done. I'll leave with everything I want (minus one kitty who I still need to find a home for but it breaks my heart and I'm not being proactive). I'll have a bed waiting and a litter box for the cats waiting so I should have nothing to worry about. Everything else is small.

Two weeks. I'm just gobsmacked at how time works. But this isn't new. We dread/anticipate something in the future (going to Japan, seeing my father) and it build up in our mind. Then it's almost there and you make sure you have everything you need. Then you're on a plane and the waiting is over. 

Next week the movers come and then I'll have a full week of nothing to do but clean my apartment before I leave, mail a few boxes of things I want the week I arrive that I don't have space to bring on the plane and then we go. I already have laundry pods, toilet paper, cat snacks and instant coffee to bring. My Kindle will be charged and ready. I'll actually live in the same time zone as Carolyn for the first time in our 20+ years of friendship. 

And: it's a 1 day drive from my door to her door and we're planning our first trip already. Springtime in Alabama. I can't wait.

December Disasters

 The State of my state or the craziness that is my family or what do you do when you no longer hate?

This is a lot and I'm writing it to get it out. Starting with: I went in October to see my father and be with my siblings and a huge part of my life felt a lot more settled after that. The relationships with my siblings is brilliant (finally) and we have a group chat with the three of us that's getting a huge work-out. It's one of the highlights of my life currently.

So my father's 95th birthday is in March and he wanted everyone to come see him and we decided to. We're getting a B&B in downtown Asheville and all siblings and spouses will be there (Mollie declined an invitation) and it was fun to plan time together again. Howevs, thankfully no one got their plane tickets ...

My father got hospitalized with a chest infection. He took a couple of falls so off to the hospital he went and they pumped him full of antibiotics and then decided to put him in a rehab center to regain his strength before going home.

Because he was bored he called his kids. A lot. And I had some nice conversations with him. He got very involved with my home buying journey. He told stories about his life after he left the family. 

Then he got COVID. So instead of going home they readmitted him back into the hospital. A 94 year old with COVID is not working with statistics on their side. And then he did what he's always done and he acted the ass. He checked himself out of the hospital AMA (against medical advice) and he went home. With COVID. To his 80 year old wife. Who has/had polio. Who walks with a walker. Who he's yelling at to nursemaid him.

Anyway, all of this and moving/buying a house has put me in one of my biggest depressive episodes in a long time. I move in three weeks and I can't get out of bed most days. I eat one meal daily, I'm exhausted and there's so much to do. 

My brother's birthday is tomorrow and he came to have me take him to lunch today which was a godsend. It forced me to shower and get dressed and finally take my laundry to the laundromat and get some clean undies. We spent over 2 hours just talking and it gave me the energy I needed to take care of laundry. I still have a shitload of boxes to pack and I need to get my car cleaned out to sell it and I'm just laying in bed reading and sleeping.

Anyway, I wanted to write some of this out to get it off my chest and maybe aid myself in getting on track. Comments are off (if I did it right). I just needed to read my own words right now.

Moving to Decatur

 You would think I never bought a home before. (I kind of haven't, not like this). Anyway, my little house in Decatur will officially be mine in 10 days. The seller repaired everything we asked except the roof and they're dropping the price because I will replace the roof myself in spring.

My apartment is boxes and chaos. The cool thing about moving is purging things. All the little things that have taken up space for too long that bring no joy. And then the things that make me smile or feel lighter in my soul. Knowing those things will follow me and continue to bring happiness.

It's just exhausting to be doing all this. Much of my furniture is gone, I'm keeping my bed and desk until the last minute and most everything else is being given to neighbors. It would cost less to replace certain things than to just buy them new.

Anyway, I sleep, I pack, I stress. And in a little over three weeks I'll be on the mainland freezing my patootie off.

Cheers.