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the_siobhanMy sister went to my dad's house the day after I did and managed to get a couple of book cases emptied. Then she called me and said, this is never going to work. They just have too much stuff and MIL has to decide what to do with every single object. It will take months.
We got her to rent a storage unit and every single thing they don't immediately need for life is getting thrown into a box and moved out of the house. Last week Daughter and I went back and packed up one room entirely, Sister and her husband showed up the next day with their pickup truck to haul it all away. Yesterday Sister and I went over together and managed to clear out two more full rooms.
Next Saturday we go back for the final push. We'll empty the house of everything not needed for staging and take Dad and MIL to an Airbnb for the week. Sunday the cleaners come, Monday the realtor gets the place ready, then a week of showings, then they move back into the house and we retrieve just the things they need to live in the house until the sale closes. Then there's the move itself, whenever that happens. Once they're settled MIL can retrieve a few boxes at a time for sorting at her leisure and we can all breathe.
The conversations with the realtor about the best way to show a house have been fascinating. Anything that indicates the house isn't a showroom has to go. The TV has to go. Every surface must be empty and sterile - which is why they can't be there, real people have things like glasses and pill bottles and cups of tea sitting on the coffee table.
I think having Sister and I there has been saving the realtor's sanity - she kept bringing up that most families wouldn't be there helping at all. So of course my immediate reflex is to say, "What's the point in having them then?" My sister: "Yeah, I only put up with these assholes in case I need them in an emergency."
The realtor thinks we're hilarious.
My sister was joking that she wants to start a moving company called Two Old Broads And a Truck. We'll move your furniture and also compliment your decor and coo over pictures of your grand-kids.
And she made a comment that I've been thinking about ever since, that she didn't think most 60 year-old women were hauling furniture and climbing around in the bed of a pickup truck. I disagreed, that I thought it was generational, people older than us didn't really do gyms and jogging but our peers and younger have decided that we don't necessarily have to go gently into that aging night.
She used her friends as an example. I suggested that maybe there's also a class aspect to it? You have to do the physical labour yourself if you can't afford to throw money at it - I'm not digging my own drainage pit and hauling rocks because I have a ton of options. But when I think more about it, it's also true that the vast majority of my friends are younger than me. I only have a few who are older and they're bicycling and kayaking and horseback riding and axe-throwing. So maybe that's just a case of poor sample size. I dunno.
Mind you, we also had a conversation with the MIL about how even though she isn't strong enough to help us carry the boxes, the fact she does regular Tai Chi means she is so much more flexible than either of us. (Sister said to her, "You bend like somebody who knows she can get back up again.")
Meanwhile my house is now piled full of crap because I haven't had a chance to deal with it. The neighbourhood yard sale happens at the end of the month so a lot of it is going on a table with a sign that says "Free". The Bell techs that were supposed to show up and look at the downed wires never showed up so I need to follow up with them and I have a couple of other things around the house that I have to get fixed that will just have to wait until I have a week where I know for sure what my schedule is going to be.
***
Lord Brock got put on a new medication, a painkiller this time. He was so stoned on the first day, or maybe just dizzy. I legit thought he had had a stroke for a second when I saw him first thing in the morning, it looked like he was dragging his hind legs but it turned out his legs were fine, he was just really floppy. I had to carry him up and down the stairs all day. I also think he fell over in his litter box, I keep finding little splashes of litter and turds all over the place.
He's on a half dose as of yesterday and we'll see how it goes. He seems much more normal this morning.
He's also very excited that he now gets two daily doses of medication because that means two rounds of treats. Bliss! I should be as easy to please as a cat.
We got her to rent a storage unit and every single thing they don't immediately need for life is getting thrown into a box and moved out of the house. Last week Daughter and I went back and packed up one room entirely, Sister and her husband showed up the next day with their pickup truck to haul it all away. Yesterday Sister and I went over together and managed to clear out two more full rooms.
Next Saturday we go back for the final push. We'll empty the house of everything not needed for staging and take Dad and MIL to an Airbnb for the week. Sunday the cleaners come, Monday the realtor gets the place ready, then a week of showings, then they move back into the house and we retrieve just the things they need to live in the house until the sale closes. Then there's the move itself, whenever that happens. Once they're settled MIL can retrieve a few boxes at a time for sorting at her leisure and we can all breathe.
The conversations with the realtor about the best way to show a house have been fascinating. Anything that indicates the house isn't a showroom has to go. The TV has to go. Every surface must be empty and sterile - which is why they can't be there, real people have things like glasses and pill bottles and cups of tea sitting on the coffee table.
I think having Sister and I there has been saving the realtor's sanity - she kept bringing up that most families wouldn't be there helping at all. So of course my immediate reflex is to say, "What's the point in having them then?" My sister: "Yeah, I only put up with these assholes in case I need them in an emergency."
The realtor thinks we're hilarious.
My sister was joking that she wants to start a moving company called Two Old Broads And a Truck. We'll move your furniture and also compliment your decor and coo over pictures of your grand-kids.
And she made a comment that I've been thinking about ever since, that she didn't think most 60 year-old women were hauling furniture and climbing around in the bed of a pickup truck. I disagreed, that I thought it was generational, people older than us didn't really do gyms and jogging but our peers and younger have decided that we don't necessarily have to go gently into that aging night.
She used her friends as an example. I suggested that maybe there's also a class aspect to it? You have to do the physical labour yourself if you can't afford to throw money at it - I'm not digging my own drainage pit and hauling rocks because I have a ton of options. But when I think more about it, it's also true that the vast majority of my friends are younger than me. I only have a few who are older and they're bicycling and kayaking and horseback riding and axe-throwing. So maybe that's just a case of poor sample size. I dunno.
Mind you, we also had a conversation with the MIL about how even though she isn't strong enough to help us carry the boxes, the fact she does regular Tai Chi means she is so much more flexible than either of us. (Sister said to her, "You bend like somebody who knows she can get back up again.")
Meanwhile my house is now piled full of crap because I haven't had a chance to deal with it. The neighbourhood yard sale happens at the end of the month so a lot of it is going on a table with a sign that says "Free". The Bell techs that were supposed to show up and look at the downed wires never showed up so I need to follow up with them and I have a couple of other things around the house that I have to get fixed that will just have to wait until I have a week where I know for sure what my schedule is going to be.
***
Lord Brock got put on a new medication, a painkiller this time. He was so stoned on the first day, or maybe just dizzy. I legit thought he had had a stroke for a second when I saw him first thing in the morning, it looked like he was dragging his hind legs but it turned out his legs were fine, he was just really floppy. I had to carry him up and down the stairs all day. I also think he fell over in his litter box, I keep finding little splashes of litter and turds all over the place.
He's on a half dose as of yesterday and we'll see how it goes. He seems much more normal this morning.
He's also very excited that he now gets two daily doses of medication because that means two rounds of treats. Bliss! I should be as easy to please as a cat.
(no subject)
Date: 2026-05-09 04:53 pm (UTC)This all seems like a lot, and yet familiar. The hidden reserves of strength and mighty that we find ourselves tapping into for family members at this stage of life.... <3
(no subject)
Date: 2026-05-09 05:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2026-05-09 06:35 pm (UTC)