Well, today has been hard. I just wish things were easier. Both yesterday and the day before when I spoke with Mom she just seemed so sad. She wanted to go home, she felt like a prisoner, it's boring, she's all alone, etc. The thing is I know that even if Mom were in her actual home, she'd have the same complaints. Tuesday she couldn't remember either of my sisters' last names or either of their husbands' first names. She's safer where she is. But it still breaks my heart.
My niece and nephew have been selling some of Mom's stuff on KSL.com. They've actually set up a pretty nice looking website advertising some of her stuff. I checked it out just out of curiosity. Boy, that was a mistake. It broke my heart! Seeing all of Mom's stuff, some of it filled with so many memories, being sold to a bunch of strangers. Actually, I think some of her stuff is being underpriced, but I'm not in charge of all that. And, truthfully, I am glad my niece and nephew are handling it. I wouldn't be able to do it. I told Jonah I would just be crying and crying over selling and giving away Mom's stuff. It would be too hard. It's already hard, and I'm not even there.
I saw pictures on the website of Mom's old couch that has been reupholstered once, but is still the original couch that has been in that house for years and years and years. Going for $15 (and is probably worth just that at this point). The old roll top desk my dad was so excited to get went for $90 (Jonah thinks they could have gotten more for that). An old teapot we got from my grandma (Jonah thought that one had been undersold as well). The piano Mom wanted because she wanted to learn to play piano. In the end, she gave up, and I was the one who used it the most. In fact, my sister-in-law asked if I would be taking it. Jonah and I already have a piano, and Mom's is very heavy and cumbersome. I just can't take it nor do I really want it. But it sure makes me sad to watch it be sold. I shouldn't have looked at the site. I think it's better not to know. It's too painful.
My younger sister and her husband took the really nice hutch that Mom got when she and I worked at a theatrical supply company. I imagine the next time I go back to Utah, the house will be a shell of its former self. That house was home to me for so long, and now it isn't. Even last time I was there it just didn't feel like the home it once was.
Truthfully, I do get days when I feel angry. I'm mad that Mom can't live happily in her house for the remainder of her life. I'm upset that we will be using her savings and selling her home to pay for her to stay in a place she doesn't even want to be.
And I know rationally it's all what needs to be. But my heart sure has trouble with it sometimes.
I was reading a journal entry my mom wrote 12 years ago where she was talking about cleaning up my two nieces' vomit while she was babysitting them. One of those nieces is the one living in her house now, and her husband found Mom passed out in her own vomit before she was taken to the hospital shortly before she was finally moved into this assisted living facility. It made me think of the irony. Funny how our roles change as we get older.
I've also been frustrated and discouraged by the hunt for employment. It really is starting to take a toll on me. When I think of people who have been unemployed for far, far longer than I have, I just think, "Please, please let me find a job soon." I can't even imagine what they're going through.
In spite of the challenges, I am grateful to be with Jonah. I am grateful for what I am accomplishing with my free time. And I am grateful I am still able to collect unemployment (although not for much longer). I can't imagine where we'd be without it. I just hope this joblessness doesn't last too much longer.
As I finish this post, I see a photo my younger sister posted on Facebook. It is of Mom and my brother-in-law dancing (an activity Mom has always enjoyed) at a Valentines social at the assisted living facility. Mom has a big smile on her face. It is great to see her smiling in her new home. I hope I can see more of that.