Here I am sitting at my computer, looking at the chaos of my living space. I wanted to move. After my husband's death I thought it would be best to down-size. Go from a two bedroom to a one bedroom apartment. In a "better" community than the one I am living in now. I wouldn't have to pay anything but rent and cable and phone. Sounded good. The location was okay. The complex was supposed to be top-notch. The only trouble, it too damn small. In the living room I would have trouble fitting in the two recliners, the TV, the computer desk and my lamp. In the bedroom, I wouldn't have room for my bed let alone the dresser or tall-boy or night stand. My clothes, heck I'd have to wear the same thing all year long. The closets were okay but...
The kitchen was wide enough for cabinets on both sides of the "room". One wall had upper cabinets. The stove was regular. The refrigerator (even though it was brand new) was the size you could fit in a kids' play- house. The sink was a single bowl sink. That's okay, I've got that now, but the size was SMALL. Counter space was nil. A little between the stove and the entryway into the kitchen (about 3 ft.) and a small space between the frig and the sink and then another space on the other side of the sink. Gigantically SMALL.
The bathroom was a good size. But, no vanity so I could put cleaning products in. Two towel racks. No handrails to "help" me get out of the tub. Or to keep me from falling.
The bedroom closet doors were made of heavy, heavy cardboard. There must have been mirrors once but they were taken out and replaced with probably the backing of the mirrors and these had been painted. Very flimsy and the tracks that the doors were opening on were very old and crappy.
The bedroom size as I said above was miniscule. I have a queen-size sleighbed. The headboard is almost 6 ft tall, the foot board is 4 1/2 ft tall. Made of heavy pine. Solid wood with wooden rails. There is carving on the top of both the headboard and footboard. It's gorgeous. It took us 2 years to pay off this bedroom suite. The tallboy is big and heavy. The dresser has 6 drawers and a mirror. I have not had the mirror up since 2005 when I moved to this complex. It's been in a closet forever. I want to put it back where it belongs.
Well let me tell you the other apartment is a no go. I told the manager here I was not moving. I told my kids I was not moving. I tried to tell the manager of the other complex that I changed my mind but she was not in the office today. That is so a pet peeve with me. There's a note on the door. No mention in the answering service message, nothing. I drove across town to give them notice and They were no there. SO UPSET.
Well, I'm going to add to this saga.
My children, my wonderful children. When dad passed away, they were there for me and I was there for them. They weren't at Hospice House when he actually passed, but it was because it was early in the morning and they were at home. I called my daughter Charlotte and she came right away. She lives 45 minutes from the facility. So, I waited. We went in together (I had already seen him and held him and cried over him and prayed and wailed and wailed... She also cried for her father. The nursing staff had prepared him for the funeral procedure. We didn't have one. He didn't want anyone "looking" over him and saying things they should have said to him in life. So off he went to the crematorium. It's so expensive. I still haven't been able to retrieve his remains. It's a heartbreaking situation.
Well, Charlotte helped me load my van of all the paraphenalia that I had there. But, she went home and I did too. I traveled 35 miles in the opposite direction from Charlotte. I went home and struggled to get the stuff in my van inside. I walk with a cane. Need to have a hip replacement done. It's difficult to get around. My neighbor saw me struggling and came out to help. He's a gossip, a pain in the ass sometimes, but has been very good to me and Bill. He still helps me with rubbish, bringing groceries in and stuff like that.
Well, I decided to move (as I said in the beginning of this post). First, it was to my youngest daughter's. She doesn't have room. I'd have been sleeping in the "kitchen/dining room". No way. No privacy and her boyfriend is a JERK. So the stuff she took down there (and put in a storage unit which I paid for along with alot of her stuff) was brought back and dumped in my kitchen/living room. The second bedroom is a mess. The whole closet is in the room. The bureau is piled high with boxes.
Since I am no longer moving to the miniscule apartment, I have to put all this stuff away. Everyone is silent about helping. They say call if you need help. Why can't they just show up and help. It would take a couple of hours and then I could clean and get this apartment back in order.
I am so pissed. It seems they have forgotten their promise to their father. Helping me is on the back burner for all of them.
