April Updates and Another Farewell

I haven't written since late February, and during that time the world as we'd known it has changed entirely for everyone.

Things have been very topsy-turvy here, too.  I feel sheepish to admit we are still working on the remodel.  

I remember joking with the contractor in December, "As long as we're done by Easter, it will be fine."  

He had looked at me with a bit of consternation, "Easter!  We'll be done before then!"

Turns out, he was right, he was done before then.  But the house wasn't.  While we waited for the stair treads to be delivered, the contractor moved on to other jobs, which was understandable, there was nothing to do here while we waited for parts.  

When the parts did arrive around the first of March, the contractor and I had another talk; he wasn't really thrilled about remodeling the staircase as it was going to be a lot of fussy work and he had plenty of other work already in progress with other clients. He would make the time, though, but it would be another $2000.  In the end, we decided Carl and Cody would install the treads working together.  After all, how hard can it be?  It's just a small staircase.  (Famous last words.)

Well, anyway, March is sort of a blur to me after all that has happened recently.  The first big change was Carl's retiring after 42 years with the same company.  His last day of work was March 6, 2020.  Imagine, just like that, done with having to get up at 5AM every day.  (Except, he's still waking up at 5AM every day because it's an ingrained habit.) Thankfully, he usually can go back to sleep for a little while.

I spent so much time in late February and early March on the phone trying to deal with insurance companies and the Social Security administration, ugh.  I had to call the SSA several times to straighten out problems we'd encountered while trying to use their online system.  Telephone hold times even before this virus upended everything were astronomical.  

With every call I made, there was an unending repetition of, 'We are experiencing a high volume of calls, please remain on the line and your call will be answered in the order in which is was received.  Current hold times are one hour, twenty minutes.  We regret it is taking so long to answer your call.  Your call is important to us.  Please remain on the line and the next available operator will assist you,' followed by very loud 'hold' music that made my telephone speaker vibrate and my head ache.  

I lost track of how many calls I had to make to get things squared away, but eventually I was successful on the most important parts, anyway.   (I hope.)

We were still living at the Hobbit House and driving to and fro day and night when we decided to move back to our house on March 7.  No, the house isn't done and it's not ideal, but it surely is nice cooking here and being able to go to bed at night when we get tired of working instead of having to get in cold cars and drive around the block twice a day.   

Back in our small bedroom at last!

March 10, I turned 62 with not much hoopla.  There were already mutterings about the virus and everyone was slightly uneasy, but at that time we did manage to go out for a nice meal with Joel, Abby and Audrey.  David didn't feel well that evening, so he stopped in and waved from afar and went back home.  

Thursday, March 12, I had a bad toothache which landed me an emergency appointment with my dentist and ended with a partial root canal procedure with a follow-up appointment scheduled to do the rest in the future.  But as we all know, the following days saw the 'social distancing' measures being enforced and my follow-up appointment was canceled as the office was closed.

With all of the pandemonium and social distancing, Cody could no longer come to help Carl with the staircase, so Carl has been on his own, working on it every day.  Carl's ambivalent about the progress he's making and the results, but I think it is fine and I 'encourage' him to keep going.  (Ok, so it's more like nagging, I'll admit.)

Staircase in progress.  April 9, 2020

Of course, with the virus rules in effect, we were not allowed to visit Carl's mother, Rosemary, in the nursing home.  We did have a few phone calls from the facility letting us know she was doing ok in late March, but was refusing to eat and she was losing weight.  The next call was to tell us hospice was called in and we were to await a visit from a hospice nurse to sign her up for their service.

We met on a sunny but cold day, March 27, on our new front porch so we would be respecting the rules to the best of our ability by distancing ourselves outdoors.  The nurse explained the hospice process which we have now been through for the third time in less than three years with my mother, Carl's dad and now, Carl's mother.  Carl signed the paperwork and the petite nurse was on her way to her next appointment.

As fate would have it, my sore tooth was getting worse, but I figured there wasn't anything to be done about it due to the pandemic rules; I'd just have to tough it out.  But then my dentist called me and said he'd like to have me come in so he could finish the procedure as he viewed it as an emergency, and if infection set in, it could be even more of a problem.  Thursday, April 2, I went in to his very sterile, deserted office, and he was able to install a temporary crown which has made my tooth much happier.

News coming from the nursing home was not good, however.  Even though on Tuesday, March 31, the nursing home had posted a picture of an alert, smiling, Rosemary with a message to her loved ones written on an erasable white board, her health took a downturn.  

No outside visitors were allowed into the facility, which is understandable for the safety of the residents.  The nursing home did provide us with the ability to video chat with Rosemary on Wednesday, April 1, which was a blessing.  She was eventually able to focus on the screen being held for her by a nursing home employee and recognized us when we told her we loved her.  She told us she was doing her best to be happy and we should do the same.  

"Be happy.  You just have to make up your mind to be happy and then do it," she said as she gazed at us in the video screen.  "Be happy."

We assured her we were happy.  She seemed pleased.

It was the last time we spoke to her.  

On Sunday morning, April 5, around 11:10AM, the nursing home called to tell us she was failing.  The current rules stated that one immediate family member would be allowed to be with her if they were healthy, but by 11:45 AM the second call arrived telling us of her peaceful passing.   

We felt so badly that we weren't able to be with her at the end, but the nursing staff said she wasn't alone and they prayed with her.  The hospice nurse called to say she gave her a hug from us, too. We understood the rules; a person could be a carrier of the virus and not know it, and we would not want to unknowingly bring illness to the nursing home.  Thank God for the nurses every day of the year, and especially now in this terribly uncertain time.

We made Rosemary's funeral arrangements on Monday and her funeral was Wednesday, April 8. Due to the health restrictions, only her immediate family was able to attend which included Carl, me,  Mary and Tom, and her five grandchildren and three of the great-grandchildren.  It was surreal seeing a dozen people spread out six feet apart in the funeral home, but we did manage to communicate with each other fairly well from a distance.  After a brief graveside service, the funeral was over in less than two hours.  

Even though it was very sad the funeral had to be this way, we were still blessed that we were able to say our farewells.  The sun was shining, the birds were singing as we said our final goodbyes.

I pray for everyone's health and that soon this pandemic will be behind us and we will return to a new normal.  These are dark days, indeed, but it is Spring, the season of new beginnings.

I wish you all a Blessed, Happy Easter.