Thanksgiving 2016 ~ Day Five

I called mom early to make sure she was up. Every morning she’s been here she’s told me she slept late. Not only was she up at 6:45, she said with a chuckle, “I’m having some breakfast, so there!” The drive to the ferry was unremarkable, as one wants most drives to be. The ticket agent kindly suggested I walk mom up the gangplank to the boat. As I handed her off to ferry personnel, after giving her a hug and kiss, I turned and had to fight back tears. I don’t know where they came from, but had I let them spill, they would have been the hot stinging ones that come with sobs. I didn’t want to have that sort of a meltdown on the walk-on passenger ramp in the biting wind.

I drove back to mom’s and addressed the freezer. It was full, three paper grocery bags worth, of poorly wrapped breads and meats, all freezer burned. As she has only cooked one dinner at her mainland home since my father’s passing, it is likely all this food has been in the freezer since before then. I culled redundant Costco sized plastic wraps (2), made sure all the dish towels were in the same drawer, rather than three different drawers, started the dishwasher, which was full of dirties, pulled coffee cups and saucers my dad wanted when I was getting rid of them, that certainly my mother has never used. The kitchen list goes on and on. I went through the linen closet and edited bed sheet redundancy. No one needs more than two sets of sheet for a bed they sleep in 10 times a year, and certainly, no one needs an additional 7 pillowcases for said bed. All the towels are in the linen closet now, rather than in four different places. I still have to consolidate TP and Kleenex from the five places it currently inhabits. I did laundry, including the one pair of socks and undies mom left. I do truly assume she took her other laundry home with her. I got into her office and was able to cull duplicates of things, place papers in the filing cabinet that have spent eight years sitting in open flat cardboard boxes secured with vinyl gardening ties. I will never cease to be astonished at the utter lack of organization my mom suffered from as they moved from the Island to the mainland. She used to bitch about my dad’s lack of organization. He was a shoebox organizer who did the taxes on April 14th each year. Until 2008, he always got them done on time. In reality, my poor mama is now, and has been, suffering from the inability to organize the leavings of her professional life, her fairly simple household (she doesn’t entertain royalty…), and her mind. It’s my job, as we make a move to empty the mainland house, to simplify everything I possibly can for her.

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