Things Don't Get Better, They Just Get Different


Things Don't Get Better, They Just Get Different

Depression comes and goes. At least that's what I call it. Not actually diagnosed - 'cuz no $ for a therapist - but would make sense considering.

Met with the lawyer today. Then the bank. And now we wait 6 months to see if any of the creditors opens an estate. Kind of like probate without the court filing. So we wait. It's going to be a long wait.

Meanwhile it's a struggle to figure out what to do with her things. Household goods apparently don't count for legal purposes and all there is left are knick-knacks, bedroom furniture and a lift chair.

Which brings me to the lift chair. The guy - friend of a friend - who was supposed to help me get the chair has gone MIA. The friend hasn't heard from him and neither have I. She said she'd call him but now she's not answering me either. The chair must weigh about 200 pounds. Not something you can't hoist into the back of a pickup truck with a couple of teenagers and be done.

So now will probably have to hire a moving service - God only knows with what money - to get the chair back. There's so little left of her here and it IS a comfy recliner that actually goes with the decor, so yes I want it back here. The problem is... how?

Mom's birthday is Friday. She would have been 78. Her mother lived to be 89, her uncle 99... according to the records on our family (Mom's side) were always long-lived. Well into their 80's even in the 1700s. And these were not wealthy folk of leisure but hard-working people. So for Mom to be taken by this illness so soon is appalling, tragic, and beyond "not fair".

Realized today that the people I love most are dead. My mother, my husband, and my grandmother. I barely know my father, half-brother, adopted sisters, and assorted nieces and nephews. If not for the cats I don't know what I would do, where I would go. Dad asked me once - so far - if I would come down to Texas.


I would need a job, to sell my house, find a place to live there that will allow me to have all the cats. Who the hell is going to hire a 57-year old woman? On the one hand you'd think that my two graduate degrees and years of experience would be a bonus for any company but thanks to ageism not so much. I'm too experienced, cost too much for salary, would run up their health plan costs - all the usual bunk. I have 10 years before I can even think of retiring, what company can count on a fresh out of school or late twenty-something to stick around for that long? I'm healthy. I have asthma that has been well-controlled since the age of two. Nothing else. Okay some stress-induced weight gain and elevated A1C but once things calm down that should settle down. Maybe a new place would be good medicine.

But I don't have the energy to look for another job. To move. I'm exhausted. And too, it would feel like I was running away ... which I guess I probably would be.

Things don't get better, they just get... different.

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