To his dismay, my father had to be wheeled from the hospital room and to the front doors. Exhausted, he agreed to rest and allow me to complete the monthly shopping. Having found each item on his list, I returned, put the groceries away, and started dinner. I had planned to drive home and return in the morning. Instead, the phone rang. From the area code I knew my mother had passed.
There are few to call who can come and relaxedly be here. I am thankful there was one. We gathered in the house to occupy the first four hours. Then we all parted to attend our tasks. This collecting and yes, hoarding of stuff is my mother's idea. My dad began immediately offering me things to carry away. As freaked as I feel about taking a bunch of stuff home, I feel worse knowing he has a big trash bag just pitching things in. I have these same patterns.
Oh, the waste. This is another place for me to let go. I have now spend the last four hours digging through a container or stuff to reach the bottom and find unopened expired items. Lots and lots of what was really good stuff just gone to waste. I have sorted things to keep and share, stuff to sell or give away (donate), trash, trash, trash, and recycling.
Along the path today, I realized that sometimes Love and Compassion are the buffer between my bitch mature and someone else's donkey behavior. While I was comforting my father, I did not have attention to execute what would have been a deep jab in the eye of my controlling self-righteous sister. When the missed opportunity was pointed out to me I shrieked. It would have been the coup de grâce. Pun intended.
I am distracted by the inability to leave italics, so, I'm off to sleep as tomorrow is already here and I am traveling in just four hours. What was I thinking?
I knew a man who once said, "death smiles at us all; all a man can do is smile back." ~From the movie Gladiator