DECISION MADE???

          It’s going to be a go…the garage sale that is. Yesterday, when I finally drug out the vacuum cleaner and dusting rags, I began to eliminate stuff from my living room. These are just things that I have to dust over and over and over and over. Why on earth I ever thought I needed so much glass stuff, I have no idea. And, it isn’t just glass, it’s other possessions as well.

          The shelves and tables aren’t bare, but they are holding a lot less. Once I go to Office Depot and get some stickers, I’ll begin pricing and boxing this junk, I mean wonderful belongings, up. I’m sure none of it will sell for what I paid for it originally; however, I was always fairly cheap and wouldn’t spend more than $10 and usually less when buying something. I know I do have some spendier pieces that were gifts, but it’s time to file the memory of who gave and why and let go of the actual item.

          It’s fairly amazing how much better I’m feeling now that I’ve made that decision as well as a couple of others that I’ll share more about later. I guess I’ve been kinda waiting for someone, anyone, to offer assistance and/or decisions with regard to all this stuff. You’d after all this time I’d know the only decision maker here is me.

          You see, John never ever made an important decision for me. There were many times when I just wanted to crawl into his lap, have him cuddle me and tell me what to do. It usually had something to do with changing jobs or family/friend relationships. The decision for me was always very difficult. “Just tell me what I should do?” was my refrain.

          The refrain was ignored with the exception of John playing Devil’s advocate. He’d go over all the minuses with regard to the yes or no decision; then, he’d do the pluses. But, he never gave me a pat on the head and told me unequivocally exactly what I should do.

          John did this for most of our marriage; however, the older he became, the more opinionated, especially after he retired and spent hours on the computer he was. There are organizations and people on the internet who look for and attract individuals like my husband. I think I’ve mentioned before how far right wing he became in the last ten plus years of his life. He became a Devil’s advocate for the devil(s) in my opinion.

          I soon learned not to discuss important decisions with him, because his advice (demand) in no way, shape or form was beneficial. One piece of advice readily comes to mind. It had to do with my 403b retirement plan. I wanted to move the money some place where it would continue to grow (I’d received some bad advice from the company plan holder.) as well as be readily available should I need to tap some of those funds.

          I bought a couple of books and did some research before finally making a decision. John’s advice was I take ALL the cash and put it into a saving account; or better yet, buy gold with it. I explained I’d have to pay income tax up front which would eat up over half the funds. He came back with how risky the stock market really was, which considering the amount of money I’ve lost in the last week might now be true.

          Still, I went ahead with my decision to invest; and it was withdrawals from that account that paid for John’s medical, dental and pharmaceutical needs for the last seven plus years. Since I stopped taking withdrawals last fall, my account grew very well up until, as I said above, the last week and the coronavirus affect on the stock market.

          So, the garage sale is on and I’ll be busy working toward it. I also think I’ll sell the house, but that’s not yet a definite decision. I need to do some research and figure out if it would be beneficial financially to sell and move someplace else where my only responsibility would be writing a check. But, that’s also a decision I don’t have to make immediately. As long as I can pay the property taxes and remain healthy and able to care for myself, I’ll be here.  I just don’t want to get to the point where family or whoever is making my decision for me.  If nothing else, John did teach me decisions about me, myself and I have to be made by me, myself and I.

VALUE CAN ONLY BE DETERMINED BY THE OWNER

          Posting about having a garage sale made me think of the first time John and I had a serious argument about something I did without consulting him. I don’t think we’d even been married a year. I know we were living in the little house in Ballard, and it was probably spring because that’s when you do your spring cleaning…right?

          Anyway, I was John’s wife, mistress of his life so why would I need to check with him when I began cleaning out the closet and dresser drawers. I mean, really, it was right there in the marriage vows wasn’t it? What was his is mine and what’s mine is his and those vows endowed me with the power to make decisions about his clothes and stuff. So, I cleaned out his side of the closet as well as mine. I had never been a saver, i.e., if I didn’t wear it or came to dislike it, then it went in the Goodwill box.

          John had this pair of white Levi’s that had been patched innumerable times by his mother. The jeans were more patch than original fabric. At that point I had never owned a pair of Levi’s and had no idea that the longer you had them and wore them, the softer and more comfortable they became. To me, all those patches represented being poor and there was no need for him to keep them since he had other good pairs of jeans. Into the Goodwill box they went.

          John also had an unbelievably ugly mustard-yellow corduroy jacket. He’d put it on once with a red and white patterned shirt…so ugly. It looked horrible and I insisted he wear something else. After all, I was the fashionista, not him. So, since I hated that jacket and couldn’t ever see myself going out in public with him if he was wearing it, into the Goodwill box it went as well.

          The final insult as far as John was concerned was the fact, he took the boxes out of the car trunk and put them into the Goodwill bin. When he found out he’d tossed his favorite jeans and that wonderful jacket into the bin, he was so angry, I’m sure if he could have said, “I divorce thee; I divorce thee; I divorce thee.” and never had to see me again, he just might have done exactly that.

          Since he died last August, I’ve gotten rid of a whole bunch of stuff without asking him if it was okay. I’m sure if he was in a grave, he’d be rolling over and over in an absolute snit. I gave away 25 boxes of Playboy magazines…yes, GAVE away. I took another four or five huge boxes of Maxim magazines to the recycle station. It gave me great pleasure, plus added a lot of steps to my Fitbit that day, to carry and toss those magazines. In the process of cleaning out all those file cabinets, I found a bunch of jewelry that definitely didn’t belong to me. Who knows where it came from? Someone suggested I take it to Bellevue Rare Coins. I did and was very thankful I didn’t toss that stuff into a Goodwill box. The absolute ugliest pieces of jewelry were 18 caret gold…imagine. 

Besides what I did, the boys and I went through a stuff in the garage and then through what he had stored in the extra space he rented. Again, there was so much that didn’t have a value and that ended up in either recycle or the garbage. The eldest son kept saying, “What was dad thinking?”. I certainly didn’t have an answer.

Not too long ago, I read an article written by a woman who had just finished cleaning out her mother’s home. She hired an estate sale company to take care of the whole thing, but learned a number of things. No one is interested in good china or crystal…may as well enjoy tossing it on the floor and breaking it. No one is interested in brown furniture…may as well cut it up for firewood. Apparently, the only items that have any value are good jewelry, firearms, and I cannot remember what the third thing was…maybe sterling silver? I looked for the article, but could not find it again.

So, I guess the absolute best thing would be to order a dumpster (Can you hear John screaming?) and simply begin to fill it with all the stuff in the house, the attic and the garage that isn’t needed or necessary…this would include eliminating as much of my own stuff as possible in the process. I think I’ll have a garage sale first though and see if I can’t make a bit of change from some of it. I figure if I start now and go room by room, pricing and boxing, then it shouldn’t be too hard come the end of July. Then, whatever’s left can go in the dumpster…John, don’t you come haunting me now. 

TO GARAGE SALE OR NOT GARAGE SALE

         In a post the other day, I said I HAVE TO get John’s bedroom cleaned out. I believe I’ve posted before that he was a hoarder and saved all kinds of worthless stuff. What’s left in that room now may be stuff that’s worth something, but I’ll only find that out if I proceed to go through it all, do some research and figure out how and where to market these “valuables.”      

  

         Lately, I’ve been toying with the idea of holding a garage sale, perhaps the end of July or the beginning of August. It’s been a very long time since I held a garage sale and I had John to assist me then. I’m sure my sons would be happy to give me a hand on an as needed basis provided that basis wasn’t every weekend between now and July.

          Actually, I'm even toying with the idea of having a HUGE ESTATE sale and opening up the house in order to sell anything within that I haven't put aside for myself. This would be in preparation for selling the house and moving to someplace that wouldn't require the amount of hard work and care this house does. It would be a huge adjustment after living here for 51 years, but perhaps it's more than time for a change.

         Does anyone reading this out there have any advice they’d like to share about garage sales, getting rid of stuff, researching what stuff might be worth, or selling the home and its contents? I know I can google almost any item and get some kind of response. Still, it would be great to benefit from someone else’s experience.

          Come on now…the more advice and/or ideas the better. Thanks so very much in advance!!!

FINANCES AND INCOME TAX

        Are you a list maker? I am and I just made a list of important work I need to get done tvery soon. (1) I need to prepare my 2019 income taxes; (2) I need to complete the form requesting my property taxes be reduced and submit it; (3) I need to go online and update my medical file for the physical exam I scheduled for March. These are the big three and in addition to the ordinary stuff that’s always on the list, i.e., laundry, vacuum, dust, grocery shop, etc., etc., etc.

          The first item on the list tend is an annual event that has pissed me off and annoyed the heck out of me for decades. That’s because I didn’t want to have to do any of the money stuff in my marriage. I simply wanted and expected a husband that would go to work, come home, pay the bills and take care of any pesky financial stuff that came up, like assuring our golden years would be debt free and fun.

          Silly me, drunk with Cinderella Syndrome back in the late 1960s, I expected John to work at a job for all our married life while I took on the part of Mrs. “Cleaver” Karlberg. I’d keep a beautiful home, cook wonderful meals and raise brilliant happy beautiful children.

Those expectations did work out from the get go…I should have run screaming into the night right after the honeymoon when John suggested we each keep our own checking accounts. So, that’s what we did for all our years of marriage although we each had our name on the other’s account. As a matter of fact, I have a check to deposit because I just closed John’s account at his bank…no, we didn’t even have the same bank.            

          I almost always had at least a half-time job and eventually came to earn far more than John, only because he had his own business and didn’t pay himself well at all. According to John, it cost too much in taxes for him to have much of an income. So, the bulk of budgeting, paying bills, doing the paperwork and filing taxes for John’s company, as well as taxes for us personally fell to me.

          I’m not exactly sure why it developed in this manner. I know we did try to reverse the situation more than once. I’m not a genius when it comes to math, but it was somehow easier for me take care of our financial business. And, I suppose it was actually a good thing because it was me paying into the retirement system that allowed us/me to retire and continue to pay the bills each month. John’s “costs too much to pay into social security” netted him less than half of what I receive.

          This year I don’t have anyone to grumble to or at when I begin dragging all the papers from the files. I also won’t need an additional signature when it comes time to submit anything. Somehow knowing I’ll be signing everything as just me, myself and I, makes John’s absence seem, once again, more infinite. It truly makes me wonder how it will be in 2021. Will I still become pissed off and annoyed when it comes time to fill out the tax forms? Or, will I simply sail through it because it’s just me, myself and I?

YESTERDAY...

Was not a good day. I didn’t get a single thing written. I was/am very depressed even though I walked, went to exercise class and did my physical therapy. I kept and keep reminding myself that I “choose” how I’m feeling, but sometimes the day can hold surprises that are horrid, seem very unfair, and provide a picture of myself that I feel I don’t deserve and that is totally unwarranted. It’s because of the source of those feelings that I am feeling so depressed even though I’ve tried to choose not to be.

          Perhaps today will be a better day. To begin, I’m going back to bed for a while longer.

          I wish y’all a wonderful day.

GRANDCHILDREN BLESSINGS

          It’s Sunday afternoon and I’m hoping I can keep my eyes open until at least 9:00 pm. I had the grandkids, Arayli and Xander, for the day yesterday and overnight last night. All went well during the day. We played games and I introduced them to Mexican Train. We played one more game this morning before I took them home and Xander won. We also went to the park yesterday since it wasn’t raining and Xander played on all the equipment, Arayli practiced basketball and I wandered around watching them both.

Arayli (11) and Xander (5)

          Nana also ordered two new movies from Red Box. Some Dora movie that Xander picked out and Maleficent for Arayli. Xander really liked Maleficent, but Arayli spent more time on her phone and Tic-Tok (whatever that is), than she did watching her movie.

          Tired from the day’s activities, birthday dinner making, etc., as well as sporadic sleep Friday night, I was happy to pack Xander and myself off to bed around 10:00 pm. Arayli was on the couch and going to watch a little TV before she retired.

As we older people tend to do, I got up at 1:25 am to pee and found Xander sitting in his bed crying. I hadn’t heard him and have no idea how long he’d been awake. I sent him to my bed, went pee and returned to join him in a twin bed. Well, he’s a hot (as in temperature) little bundle and snores like a longshoreman (I have no idea how longshoremen snore, but it shounded good), so I got out of bed and tried sleeping in my recliner. I know some people say they sleep really well in their recliners, but that’s not the case for me.

I sort of dozed on and off the remainder of the night. When the dogs began making noise at 8:40 am, I rushed out, hoping they hadn’t waked the kids. I put them out and began making myself a latte. My hope of having five minutes all to myself before Arayli and Xander woke up came to naught. Arayli showed up in the living room before I let the dogs back in and Xander came out before my latte was done.

Needless to say, Nana was a trifle crabby today. The kids, of course, were raring to go immediately. Xander wanted to know even before my first sip of coffee if we could play train now. Then Arayli asked if we could play train. I managed to put them off until after we’d all been showered, shampooed and they had packed up their stuff.

In times past, I could have put Xander, or even Arayli, in Grandpa’s big bed with him and the doggies. And until the last six months to a year before he died, John would have been up with them and letting me have a bit more time in my bed. I seriously missed John and his consideration of my needs this morning. I soldiered on alone and think/hope Arayli and Xander had a good “boring” time at Nana’s.

Their visit also made me realize I simply HAVE TO finish cleaning out John’s room. As it is now, the bed is covered with boxes, empty and stuffed, as well as a variety of other items. I’ve already been asked a few times if I was going to move back into the martial bed/bedroom. I think if I’m going to have the grandkids overnight often, then it’s an absolute necessity I free up that room and that bed…whether I inhabit it or not.

DOES IT REALLY MATTER???

         One of the things I’ve noticed about being a widow and living alone is an attitude of not really caring. Since it’s just me and the doggies here, does it really matter if I vacuum or dust? Sure, if I expect family or friends to visit; then, of course, I go through the motions of making the house more presentable. (Although, I have to admit I entertained family yesterday without pulling out the vacuum or wielding the dust cloth...for shame, for shame, for shame.) But, on a day to day basis, I don’t really give much of a shit…to be profane about it.

          When John was alive, I kept a clean and fairly normal house, but he’s no longer here; and why I did it when he was alive, I don’t really know. He didn’t much care how the house looked; and judging by the dust and dog hair in his bedroom, we could have easily lived like a couple of hoarders and it wouldn’t have mattered in the least to him. I think I’ve posted his opinion on my cleaning before company comes…what’s the point since the company is just going to mess it all up anyway.

          Then, there’s the living plants throughout the house. I’ve always had living plants in my home. At one point in time, there were plants in hangers I macraméd
in front of each and every window of this house. Now, the plants reside in the

bathroom, living, dining rooms and kitchen. I know family would rather I get rid of the ones in the bathroom so I wouldn’t have to climb a ladder to water. Some times I think about just giving them all away so I don’t have to care for them any longer. Then, I think about this house and how cold it would look without those living specimens.

          What I’m left wondering about at this point is whether my ceasing to care about the dust, dirt, dog hair and plants is an indication of depression? If that’s the case, why don’t I feel depressed? Believe me, I don’t really think I’m depressed and in need of some form of medication to make it all better.

          Growing up, my mother and father both worked; and once my grandma moved to California when I was 12, I became the main housekeeper. I didn’t have to do laundry or anything like that, but vacuuming, dusting and keeping things tidy was really up to me. I continued that when I moved into my own apartment, into the house John and I rented at the beginning of our marriage and then into this house. At one point in time…actually more than one point, more like years…you could have eaten your dinner, or any meal for that matter, off my floors. My windows sparkled spring and fall. And, I held either a permanent part-time job or a full-time job while raising children and keeping a clean and gleaming home. 

         

So, now, what’s my problem? I don’t honestly know except I don’t feel much like vacuuming most days. And, dusting, well, what’s the point when it just comes back before you even get to enjoy the dirt-free tables and knick-knacks. I probably wouldn't even do much laundry except for the fact my closet and dresser drawers are not bottomless. I feel like I should be ashamed of myself for not caring so much as a real whit…and what is a whit anyway…about how it all looks. Again, am I depressed or just relaxing after a lifetime of keeping things in order?

          I find myself wanting to do other things like sit at this computer and compose stuff for my blog, or read emails, or look at Facebook. I’d rather meet someone for lunch or dinner or go to a movie. I have a stack of papers and brochures I've saved that detail hikes and places and events I want to attend. With spring just around the corner, I'd rather be out mucking about in the dirt instead of cleaning it up.  

        

          This is a quandary for me. After 74 years of cleaning, polishing, laundering, and everything else it takes to keep house, why am I now feeling as though those things are time wasters, that I have so many other things I can do instead? Is it because I feel my time is becoming more limited with each passing day? Am I just lazy? I don’t have an answer for myself.

Is feeling like this part of the grieving process? Is feeling like this perfectly normal? Is it a phase that I’ll go through that will eventually end? Does anyone have any answers or insights to share with regard to how I’m feeling? I believe I could certainly benefit from counsel from other widows/widowers who have gone through this because right now, it rather sucks and I’d much prefer to feel way better than I do currently.