Still Alive

It was a Tuesday when I received the text. I had heard nothing from the sister-in-law for about two weeks after I dropped off the cat and a few items. Then came the text that she had an apartment on the far eastern edge of town.  It was another long text about how she would be coming up to get a “few things” from the garage.  I shut that down by telling her that I would be arranging to bring her things to her. She was grateful. 

On Thursday, my nephew arrived with the large transport van belonging to my sister.  It has a lift gate at the back which makes loading a bit easier.  He got here at 9 a.m. and I had estimated that it would take about 30 to 40 minutes to load everything.  I had not realized how many other items she had stored in the garage along with everything from the house I had placed there.  An hour and a half later we had the van to the top capacity and were moving my car into place for the rest. We managed to cram everything except her heater with the broken wheels and a blue plastic bin into the two vehicles.  I called the grandson that lived out her way to let him know we would be there in about 40 minutes.

We located her apartment which luckily was not too far from the parking lot.  It is a nice complex maybe built in the late 80s or early 90s and it was in the process of being refurbished.  A good size one bedroom with laundry and new vinyl flooring.  Luckily for me, she had squirreled away a shopping cart for transportation which worked out perfectly as it allowed me to have a moving dolly and the “boys” could use the dollies we had brought along. 

I had managed to keep her plants alive which is a miracle as I am not given to a green thumb.  She had told me that I needed to do this and had been quite specific about each plant.  I had them arranged in a flat box and as I rolled into her apartment she looked up and said, “Oh, I see you were able to water plants.”  I thought a thank you might have been nicer, but I kept moving.

It took me seven trips from the car to her door, but our timing was perfect as the fellows finished the van at just about the same time. I told her that we had been able to get everything in except the heater. On one of my last runs, I handed her a smaller box. As she turned to toss it onto the pile, I suggested she might want to put it on her table as it contained her St. Theresa alter and was quite fragile.

“I don’t have a St. Theresa altar,” she barked at me.

I had reached the end of my patience.  “Let me rephrase then.  It is some altar of some saint that you had in your room.  I am not Catholic, so I don’t have a clue who she is, but she’s in there and she’s fragile. Do what you want.”

I finished unloading the cart and turned and said good-bye.  She just looked at me.  I wished her luck unpacking and then I realized the apartment was unfurnished. 

“Where are you sleeping?”

“I have a blow-up bed. Do you want to see it?”

“No.  Take care.”

Out the door I went to check if there was anything left in the car or van. The grandson was rolling the last file cabinet in. I asked him to say good-bye for us and off we went. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Then the old voice of caring began to chant in my head. She did not have a decent bed. She had just had hip surgery. It was close to President’s Day weekend. There were bed sales.  We could buy her a bed. I contacted my other sister-in-law and she agreed that they would be happy to pay half.  I went out shopping.  I decided that I should ask whether she wanted a twin or full size before simply deciding for her.  I was leaning to full size.  I texted her our plan.

“I don’t want a bed. I want a futon.  Tell me what my budget is!”

Really? Then I took a deep breath and spoke harshly to myself.  A futon did make more sense. She could use it as a couch and a bed, then she would have the bedroom for her altars and office, and it made for a nicer arrangement.  I began looking for futons.  I knew that Costco had a lovely one since I had it in my meditation room. I looked for others that might be delivered directly to her so that she did not have to transport it.  Then I woke up again in the middle of managing someone else’s life.  I contacted the other sister-in-law, gave her the Paypal account information and told her the amount to send.  I did the same and left the decision up to the person that would be living with it.  I will admit it was painful to think that she might not purchase a nice enough one or a comfortable one. I wrestled with how she would get it there and set it up but took another deep breath and let it all go. She had gotten through 75 years without my help and that seemed a good track record.

I did not hear anything for another month, then the text stating that she had a doctor’s appointment on Tuesday and would be stopping by in the hopes that I had not thrown out her heater as she could not find it and had purchased the things necessary to reattach the wheels. I reminded her that I had told her we got everything BUT the heater in and that it was here.  I also requested that she not drive back to the garage as I had a Zoom class that day and did not want the dogs to go crazy as she drove by.  It would be at the front door waiting for her.

On Tuesday she drove back to the garage because that is what she wanted to do.  The dogs went crazy.  I texted her asking her to back out and go to the front as I had asked. She ignored it.  I then called and shared in my not so pleasant voice that I needed her to leave the back, go to the front, get her stuff and get out.  I hung up before she could speak. It has been our last communication.

I have reflected on this experience quite a bit.  It has been one of my best life lessons. My judgment about her daughters and their seemingly uncaring approach was misplaced. They demonstrated for me that a problem could be resolved at arm’s length. A matter-of-fact approach works just as well, if not better than my desire to dive into the muck and mire of another’s life. My sister-in-law viewed her interactions with her daughters as loving and supportive. Who was I to not agree?

A quick final note. Larry, the cousin, made it back to Mishawaka. Confused and dazed and knowing nothing about his life or what had just happened.  Indiana Adult Protective Services is not so interested in helping. Friends dove in to help once again and it was discovered that the predator had changed the Social Security deposits to his account right before the cross-country trip.  The March check never found its way to Larry, but luckily, they turned off the faucet and were able to get the stimulus check and April money. The predator is evidently back in jail, but we do not know why or where. Here’s hoping that he stays away for a long time, if not forever and that Larry can find a better solution.