My husband and I are on a long-awaited, much-needed vacation this week. And we're having a really great time. We're at the beach -- my favorite place since childhood. And like I said, we're having a really great time. Except that, we have somehow become a couple of grumpy old farts.
We haven't been to the beach in the summer in ages. For the last 4 or 5 years, we've beached in September, November, April, and May. We forgot about what the beach was like at the height of "tourist season". Well, now we remember why we QUIT coming in summer: 1. It's hotter than hell. 2. Kids are everywhere and we don't really like kids unless they are cute and named Carson. 3. There are people everywhere, and many of them are rude and loud and drive badly.
About the heat -- I know it's supposed to be hot in the summer but DAMN it's hot! Temps have been in the 90's with a "heat index" of over 100 every day this week. After about an hour at the beach or the pool, I feel like I'm baking from the inside out. Literally. And speaking of the pool, people apparently get up at 5 am to go festoon all the deck chairs with towels, because no matter how early we get out there, all the chairs have towels draped on them (of course, there are only 4-5 people at the pool and all 30 chairs appear "taken".) Never mind that there are signs everywhere saying "no reserving of chairs allowed!". Grr.
Oh! This is new -- golf carts. There must be a gazillion of them riding the roads. Usually there are a couple of teenagers motoring down the road in this little go-cart. So while I'm trying to get to the Kroger to pick up more beer and coffee, I'm behind a golf cart going 7 miles an hour. It's not a good thing.
But just when the hell did we turn into old farts??? We've been "in" every night by around 9. Asleep by 11. Tonight, we were going to head to the pier to check out the live music, and we couldn't find a parking place closer than 4-5 blocks away -- so we just gave up! I remember when we used to walk the mile and a half from where we stayed to the the pier. I wouldn't imagine subjecting my poor aching knees to a hike like that now.
I think we'll tour retirement homes tomorrow.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Stuff Happens. Be Prepared.
Boy oh boy. There are a lot of things about losing a parent that are very difficult. OK, I know, there is NOTHING about losing a parent that is NOT difficult. But I have a point here so I'll get right to it.
When you die, which, I'm sorry to tell you, you will do one day, someone is going to have to tie up all sorts of lose ends for you. They will be struggling with grief, guilt, stress, worry, heartache, and any number of other fun things that go with losing a loved one, so they won't be thinking all that clearly. So go ahead and set aside some time to get your "stuff" in order. It's probably one of the most loving things you can do.
I'm not saying my dad left a mess. It wasn't incredibly difficult, but then again, it wasn't very easy, either. His records -- those that I could find, anyway -- were a mish-mash of papers crammed in one big ol' drawer. No order, no system, no logic. An investment statement might be right next to an empty envelope from the phone company. My mom, bless her heart (and I sort of mean that in that southern way right now) is NO HELP. She wants to help, but she has perfected the helpless damsel in distress role to a high art form. Here are some things that you might want to think about.
Funerals are outrageous. I think we spent about $25k, and that didn't include a cemetary plot. We didn't, at least to my knowledge, do anything extravagent. The problem is, you're making decisions when the death and grief and shock are so fresh that someone could tell you that you will need an elephant at the funeral and you'd just sign the form. I'm not saying we were taken advantage of -- maybe we were, maybe we weren't --- but for sure, no one in my family was making any smart decisions about that purchase. Preplanning a funeral, while a depressing way to spend money, would be a really good thing to do.
Remember that someone will need to make sense out of your finances. Someone in your family should have a list of things like:
-do you have a will? Is it current? Where is it?
-life insurance and 401k. do you have a policy at work? who is the contact at work?
-passwords -- for bank accounts, computers, 401k, etc.
-what bank accounts do you have?
-where are important papers kept?
-who do you owe money to?
-does anyone owe YOU money?
-where are your tax records from previous year?
These are all things I've had to figure out on my own. Fortunately, my dad was not a very complex man, and he did not have complex finances. Simply gathering a month's worth of mail pretty much told me everything I needed to know. His bills were few, he hadn't set up any online accounts, and he had a will. The most challenging thing, so far, was deciphering his tax form from the previous year .... he did his own taxes, by hand, in his terrible handwriting.
I am the person in my family who handles all the finances. My husband doesn't like that sort of thing and is happy to just not worry about it. But if I die unexpectedly, he wouldn't know where to start. And I only have one son, so the thought of him having to make funeral arrangements all on his own breaks my heart. I am going to make it my business to get my "affairs in order" this year. You should too.
When you die, which, I'm sorry to tell you, you will do one day, someone is going to have to tie up all sorts of lose ends for you. They will be struggling with grief, guilt, stress, worry, heartache, and any number of other fun things that go with losing a loved one, so they won't be thinking all that clearly. So go ahead and set aside some time to get your "stuff" in order. It's probably one of the most loving things you can do.
I'm not saying my dad left a mess. It wasn't incredibly difficult, but then again, it wasn't very easy, either. His records -- those that I could find, anyway -- were a mish-mash of papers crammed in one big ol' drawer. No order, no system, no logic. An investment statement might be right next to an empty envelope from the phone company. My mom, bless her heart (and I sort of mean that in that southern way right now) is NO HELP. She wants to help, but she has perfected the helpless damsel in distress role to a high art form. Here are some things that you might want to think about.
Funerals are outrageous. I think we spent about $25k, and that didn't include a cemetary plot. We didn't, at least to my knowledge, do anything extravagent. The problem is, you're making decisions when the death and grief and shock are so fresh that someone could tell you that you will need an elephant at the funeral and you'd just sign the form. I'm not saying we were taken advantage of -- maybe we were, maybe we weren't --- but for sure, no one in my family was making any smart decisions about that purchase. Preplanning a funeral, while a depressing way to spend money, would be a really good thing to do.
Remember that someone will need to make sense out of your finances. Someone in your family should have a list of things like:
-do you have a will? Is it current? Where is it?
-life insurance and 401k. do you have a policy at work? who is the contact at work?
-passwords -- for bank accounts, computers, 401k, etc.
-what bank accounts do you have?
-where are important papers kept?
-who do you owe money to?
-does anyone owe YOU money?
-where are your tax records from previous year?
These are all things I've had to figure out on my own. Fortunately, my dad was not a very complex man, and he did not have complex finances. Simply gathering a month's worth of mail pretty much told me everything I needed to know. His bills were few, he hadn't set up any online accounts, and he had a will. The most challenging thing, so far, was deciphering his tax form from the previous year .... he did his own taxes, by hand, in his terrible handwriting.
I am the person in my family who handles all the finances. My husband doesn't like that sort of thing and is happy to just not worry about it. But if I die unexpectedly, he wouldn't know where to start. And I only have one son, so the thought of him having to make funeral arrangements all on his own breaks my heart. I am going to make it my business to get my "affairs in order" this year. You should too.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Changes
I have always had a tendency toward glass-half-empty kind of thinking. I try not to be that way, but it's kind of who I am. When things are going well, I'm sort of looking over my shoulder waiting for the dropping of shoes. Job's going great? I figure it's a matter of time until I blow something big. Vacation? I tend to focus on how quickly it's passing. So as the year of 2009 brought so many happy things into my life -- new house, new grandson, new daughter in law, for starters -- I had this nagging feeling that the worm was turning. So it was with a little trepidation that I rang in 2010. I felt I had used up my share of good stuff for awhile.
I was right. My dear father died one week into the new year. That was alot harder to write than I thought it would be.
I know that this is not a unique experience, but rather, sadly, a universal one. But it is painfully unique to me. I feel so lost. Empty. I suppose I'm depressed. I guess you get a free pass for depression in this situation. I know for sure I'm stressed. My mom has been leaning -- hard -- and I am trying not to break. It breaks my heart all over again to see how lost she is. It's not like she would ever admit it, but she relied on him for so many things. And now, she is looking to me to handle those things. I'm out of my depth here.
I am not going to write alot about my dad for now. I probably will, but right now, it just makes me cry, and I've cried about as much as I care to for awhile. I will just say that he was one of the finest people I have ever known. Someone told me, shortly after he died, to focus on the good memories and not dwell on the bad ones. That was easy --- I don't HAVE any bad memories.
I will say that I was stunned, overwhelmed, blown away by the support of my friends and co-workers. Stupefied at the goodness of the people in my life. People showed up. Called. Sent cards. Sent food. Prayed. I am humbled to have such friends in my life. OK, I'm crying now so I shall stop.
Anyway, I will just end with this. I can't believe my dad is gone. But the very last time I saw him, it was Christmas Day, and he was crawling around on the floor with his great-grandson -- CRAWLING ON THE FLOOR -- and loving every minute of it. I shall carry that memory -- and the blessings of the pictures that we took that day -- close to my heart.
I was right. My dear father died one week into the new year. That was alot harder to write than I thought it would be.
I know that this is not a unique experience, but rather, sadly, a universal one. But it is painfully unique to me. I feel so lost. Empty. I suppose I'm depressed. I guess you get a free pass for depression in this situation. I know for sure I'm stressed. My mom has been leaning -- hard -- and I am trying not to break. It breaks my heart all over again to see how lost she is. It's not like she would ever admit it, but she relied on him for so many things. And now, she is looking to me to handle those things. I'm out of my depth here.
I am not going to write alot about my dad for now. I probably will, but right now, it just makes me cry, and I've cried about as much as I care to for awhile. I will just say that he was one of the finest people I have ever known. Someone told me, shortly after he died, to focus on the good memories and not dwell on the bad ones. That was easy --- I don't HAVE any bad memories.
I will say that I was stunned, overwhelmed, blown away by the support of my friends and co-workers. Stupefied at the goodness of the people in my life. People showed up. Called. Sent cards. Sent food. Prayed. I am humbled to have such friends in my life. OK, I'm crying now so I shall stop.
Anyway, I will just end with this. I can't believe my dad is gone. But the very last time I saw him, it was Christmas Day, and he was crawling around on the floor with his great-grandson -- CRAWLING ON THE FLOOR -- and loving every minute of it. I shall carry that memory -- and the blessings of the pictures that we took that day -- close to my heart.
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