The Mom sitch: could be worse.
Apr. 10th, 2021 07:55 amI've just talked to Good Sister and Mom within the last hour. TL;DR: I feel better now.
GS says Mom isn't in imminent danger of losing the house, not least because she's arranged for caregivers to be at Mom's twelve hours a day instead of two. Much grumbling about how the courts treat her like a criminal and make access to Mom's money difficult. For what it's worth, GS observes, there's a new piece of evidence for the long-term care insurance company that Mom needs help: a police report.
And Evil Sister, when she was down in Florida two weeks ago, lit a fire under our lawyer A, whom she recommended to us in the first place. A says he can maybe get something together it two weeks for getting the reverse mortgage taken care of. Why didn't he do that months ago? The United Sister Front would like to know, but not as much as we'd like the damn house back.
Oh, and since ES saw Mom this month, GS is seeing Mom next month, and I'm getting vaccinated next week, the plan is for me to see Mom in June. There was a time when GS wanted the help & moral support of a sister with her, but these days it's important for us to maximize the time that at least one of us is with Mom. I told Mom it would most likely be the first half of the month because it would be marginally cooler. I can hear my father's ghost laughing at me, but not mean-spiritedly.
Another thing the USF noticed independently: now that Mom's memory is shot, she isn't the champion grudge-holder that she's been her whole life. It would have been better if she could just, you know, have let it go back when she was functional, but it's still a relief.
I talked to Mom for fifteen minutes without her saying anything bonkers; my sisters say I lucked out again. The caregivers have Mom painting ceramic coasters, so that's good. She's been remembering to use the right name for me, but GS reported this morning that she thought I was about to get remarried. If only.
GS doesn't think Mom's going live another year from now. Now that I've seen a few old people lose their marbles and die, I think my Good Sister's odds of being right are at least better than chance. Every visit any of us make could be the last time we see her.
Hang on, Mom. Hang on. We're coming.
GS says Mom isn't in imminent danger of losing the house, not least because she's arranged for caregivers to be at Mom's twelve hours a day instead of two. Much grumbling about how the courts treat her like a criminal and make access to Mom's money difficult. For what it's worth, GS observes, there's a new piece of evidence for the long-term care insurance company that Mom needs help: a police report.
And Evil Sister, when she was down in Florida two weeks ago, lit a fire under our lawyer A, whom she recommended to us in the first place. A says he can maybe get something together it two weeks for getting the reverse mortgage taken care of. Why didn't he do that months ago? The United Sister Front would like to know, but not as much as we'd like the damn house back.
Oh, and since ES saw Mom this month, GS is seeing Mom next month, and I'm getting vaccinated next week, the plan is for me to see Mom in June. There was a time when GS wanted the help & moral support of a sister with her, but these days it's important for us to maximize the time that at least one of us is with Mom. I told Mom it would most likely be the first half of the month because it would be marginally cooler. I can hear my father's ghost laughing at me, but not mean-spiritedly.
Another thing the USF noticed independently: now that Mom's memory is shot, she isn't the champion grudge-holder that she's been her whole life. It would have been better if she could just, you know, have let it go back when she was functional, but it's still a relief.
I talked to Mom for fifteen minutes without her saying anything bonkers; my sisters say I lucked out again. The caregivers have Mom painting ceramic coasters, so that's good. She's been remembering to use the right name for me, but GS reported this morning that she thought I was about to get remarried. If only.
GS doesn't think Mom's going live another year from now. Now that I've seen a few old people lose their marbles and die, I think my Good Sister's odds of being right are at least better than chance. Every visit any of us make could be the last time we see her.
Hang on, Mom. Hang on. We're coming.