Every morning the one sister who “they” figure can deal with me calls with more pronouncements from on high. This time, that we are having a commitment service 100 miles away after the funeral. We will be committing both my parents to the ground. I had thought that Mom had been put into the vault at the time of her service, now I find she’s been in the closet for 15 years. Not that I care, nor would Mom, but it’s just funny to me. Especially since in Catholic superstition, all ashes must be intact, or you won’t rise again. OK, I went through 12 years of parochial school, I kinda knew that. I thought maybe it had changed when they allowed cremation, but apparently not.
Next proclaimation: I can’t have Friday at the church. Although I think it has more to do with my brother not liking Friday than it does with the church, but I’m just trying to breeeeeathe through all this stuff. I am venting, I am venting, I am venting. I will live through this.
Then Sis asked if I wanted the wheelchair or Dad’s old scooter. Ummm, it’s older than my scooter, has dead batteries and tires that go flat if you look at them. No, I don’t want it. When I told her that Epona had gone dead, she immediatly said “It’s Dad.” I concur, he’s haunting me already. Oh, well, in my experience he will move on eventually. So the scooter will be donated to the VA.
Which segues into my rant on the VA. One of the residents here in the building is on the VA’s service. In the last two years he has gotten 2 brand new scooters, and a power wheelchair. WTF?? One scooter he only had for 3 or 4 months before they got him a new one. We can’t get our new vets adequate psychiatric care, but we’re buying this jerk a new vehicle yearly? I’m writing my Congressman/Senators. This is ridiculous. Not to mention that by Medicare rules, he wouldn’t even qualify for a scooter/wheelchair. I’m all for honoring our vets, but this is ridiculous.
The Boyo came over last night, and what I thought would be a simple problem with Epona apparently isn’t. I think my sister is right, it’s Dad. But he took me grocery shopping at 2 AM, so I love him to pieces. Thank goddess they have scooters in grocery stores, my knees are having fits. Need to stay in chair today and read a murder mystery, but have too much work. Dang it.
My knees are especially having fits after I ran all the errands I started out to do when Epona broke down. To the library on the bus, then to look for the music my sister wanted for the slide show. But of course, that wasn’t near a bus route. And I couldn’t find the cell phone place. Arrrrgh! I finally found the right address on the internet, but of course, it’s not near a bus line either. It wouldn’t bother most people, but it’s a long slog for me. Phooey.