There are post-it notes and lists everywhere. Cardboard boxes, rolls of paper, tape and markers. I've done the laundry, packed my bag and checked the fridge for things that might rot in my absence. I'll work today, pack the car tomorrow and head back to Illinois for the big job of clearing out and cleaning up Dad's apartment.
I wrote Dad a long letter, letting him know that I wanted to sell his cars. I wanted to give him a few days to get over his initial "NO!" before I got there on Saturday. This is such a delicate dance between telling him what needs to be done, and letting him have some final semblance of dignity in directing his own future.
I got the first bill for the nursing home yesterday, for 9 days in August and 30 in September. More than $6,000. Stunning.
I think I'm over my initial creepiness of going through his stuff, sorting and discarding. I'm ready to get the job done this time. The apartment needs to be empty by September 30, and I want to go in and whip this thing into shape ASAP.
Then I can come home to my mountain and my knit shop, and get back to MY life.
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