Mewsings from Lowecat (aka Indianacat)

My rants, ravings, and overall 'mewsings' on life, the universe, and everything.

Tuesday, May 08, 2012

Oye vay!

This has been a draining journey.  Not the drivin' between Washington and Indianapolis and back; not the gettin' ALL the way down to me da's only to find out (at 330 AM) that the DH still had the key to Daddy's house on his key ring!  I got in, six hours later.  Got a hotel room to crash in. 

So, today started with selected Daddy's final outfit.  I had wondered about his clerical robe, but then decided on a suit.  Only which color?  He had black, blue, grey, and a brown suit.  Brown to me spoke of the earth.  Daddy came from farm stock, he loved to work the fields and to work his gardens.  So brown it was.  Shoes of the same color.  A tie and belt.  A white long sleeved shirt.  Cuff links.  His wedding ring.  His watch that he was wearin' when he died.  Underwear and socks. 

All y'all will be glad to know Daddy did NOT get holy underwear, thank you very much! 

Then I realized in lookin' at a picture of him that he never liked to have a loose/floppy tie.  He also wore a tie clasp or tie pin.  Back to the dresser to look for an appropriate tie clasp.  His suit had an American flag pin on it, he's worn one since 9/11.  All of his tie clasps and pins were upside down.  I picked one up, looked at it, and decided that it was.  There was no need to look anymore.  

The tie clasp had the cross and flame emblem of the United Methodist Church.  Was it Daddy tellin' me it was right?  Was it just serendipity?  Was it God's hand guiding mine?  Maybe a conbination of all three.  I was to have another experience like that at the funeral home, more on that later. 

The reason I'm back at Indianapolis right now is not to go to work.  I have today off.  Yesterday was Paid Time Off, and Wednesday through Friday are beravement days.  Saturday is off day.  Sunday is up in the air.  As Daddy used to say, "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it."

I have two things to do today.  Vote in the primary and meet with Daddy's lawyer in Greenfield.  There is a strong possibility that the banks will freeze the assets in both Daddy's and my step - mother's trust account that Daddy administered.  Time to move the money.  The forms I need to sign today will speed up the unfreezin'.  Best to do it now, instead of waitin' a week. 

By movin' money in our personal account, I will have the funds needed to pay Daddy's bills, such as the credit cards, the medicals that still come to me, and the other necessary payments until the cards are cancelled and no longer have to be a concern.  When the subscriptions to his many magazines and the Wall Street Journal expire, they won't be renewed.  In the meantime, Robert is enjoyin' the WSJ, the ESPN and Sports Illustrated magazines, and is totally appalled and aghast that Daddy received the Rush Limbaugh Letter. 

Then I went to the funeral home, and turned over Daddy's outfit to the funeral director and his assistant.  We went upstairs to the office / showroom.   Daddy preplanned/prepaid his service.  That took a LOT of pressure off me.  No havin' to choose a casket, no havin' to scramble for people to sign, play orgran, be pallbearers.  No worries about expense.  There were tweaks to the plans, as some of the people he wanted as pallbearers weren't available.   

The funeral home can scan pictures and put them on a dvd.  I had pictures from most of the phases of Daddy's life, and some more are downloadable.  That will be a nice touch.  Daddy had already selected his casket, so all I had to do was choose the guest book and prayer card.  Even there, Daddy gave me guidance.  He'd opted for one row of bookscards.  There was a lighthouse scene, a flower garden, and the woods.  I keep lookin' at the woods and garden. 

The woods was under consideration because we had spent time at Santa Claus Methodist Campground every summer.  He as director, me as camper and later counselor.  The garden was attractin' me because of his love of putterin' in the garden.  When the time came, I chose the garden. 

Then there was the poem to put in the card.  The first one I really liked was fittin', but long.  I kept lookin, and saw another one that, like Goldlilocks tastin' the porridge, wasn't yet quite right.  The third one that caught my attention was "just right".  I started bawlin like a baby as I read it.  The funeral director and I both knew I'd found the one.  More guidance from beyond?  Who knows. 

I wrote the obit, which will be a little expensive, but will be worth it, I think.  If you're interested in readin' it, here's the link to the newspaper:

We had a fascinating moment when it came to ther burial.  Some years ago, Daddy had offered to sell the twin plots he purchased at our former church in Washington to Robert and myself.  The logistics of us being buried there seemed insurmountable.  The reason for this was that Daddy was goin' to buy a plot next to my step - mother in the same cemetary where her first husband was buried.   That was gonna leave ne with a burial plot to do somethin' with.  Well, turns out he never did that, and my step brothers had always figured they'd just have Mom's stone updated when the time came, but bury her with Daddy.  Problem solved! 

So the funeral service and visitation and burial are all set.  Next came selectin' flowers for his casket.  That, too, is already included.  So I choose a spray of red and white roses (IU colors) with an Iris in the center for his birth flower.  There will be five ribbons, 'husband, daddy, grandpa, great grandpa and uncle'.  They will be red and white.  (IU colors, get the point?  When y'all read the obit, y'all will catch on).  Ivy and fern will nestle with the red and white. 

I purchased a simple token of love that has special significaance to me.  The Gerard Butler fan group here is called the Indy Tarts and Tartans.  One of our traditions is whenever a member loses a loved member of their family, a reresentative of the group that lives in/near the town where the funeral will be takes a red rose, tied with a black ribbon, to the beraved group mmber.  I wasn't sure if someone would be able to that as far aouth as this is.  But, the tradition continues.  I ordered a single red rose, to be fitted with the simple black ribbon, and added a crystal in the center of the ribbon/bow. 

After the flower sprays, I took Daddy's hearing aid (he'd lost one) back to the hearing aid center.  They can't resell it, but they can donate it so that someone somewhere who needs a hearing aid and doesn't have the wherewithall to get one, will be able to hear. 

Daddy would like that.

I made his last property tax payment Monday; the house is in my step - brother's name.  With fall's papyment, it'll be his responsibility. 

Besides breakin' the news to the O'Briens, I also took some stuff over to the CPA, as we're workin' on Daddy's taxes, and gave them the news.  It wasn't any easy to tell them in person than it was to make all the phone calls.  But I felt it was the right thing to do. 

After spendin' a day runnin' on CAWFEE only, I was tired, grubby, a little sun burnt, and peckish. 
Yup, I ate somethin', then took a bath, relaxed awhile, and then drove back to Indy. 

And that's why I iz tired kitteh.  Nytol.


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