Monthly Archives: May 2016

OnStar

J has many nicknames for me, but the latest one (after “volcano”) is “OnStar,” bc doing shit for my my parents is a 24/7 kinda thing. They are relying on me more and more for everything and anything, from researching vendors and contractors to tech troubleshooting to reviewing contracts to finding things to do for out of town guests. This afternoon, I called them back and I swear, every time I speak with my mother, it’s like talking to a wall. She can’t process a damn word that I say. I mean we might as well just do FaceTime and play charades, bc clearly sharing TWO languages in common doesn’t help one bit. Five minutes today just to explain “I just returned from lunch with a friend.” Seriously. You did what? Did you host a party? What did you cook? How many people came over? WTF???? Lunch. With ONE friend. Please fucking LISTEN.

Once we got beyond the basics, I learned that they have finally started clearning out some junk. Nevermind that I’ve been telling them to do this for YEARS. My dad had his realtor (the one who sold grandma’s house) tour the house, and she said you have way too much stuff in here: get rid of the clutter and definitely clear out the furniture. Now, my parents have really nice, expensive, quality furniture and furnishings. Like solid cherry and mahagony and whatever. Legit Persian rugs and shit. Sadly, what they originally paid for stuff is irrelevant. In fact, I’ve read several articles about the baby boomers downsizing and how that process takes them way longer than expected, bc they think people will want to readily buy their quality shit and their kids will want the family heirlooms. But the truth is, lifestyles are different now. People move around; people don’t even have formal dinning rooms anymore, so there’s no use for a big ass dining room set, not to mention formal china and silver and cabinets to store and display all that crap. Still, these realities take a long time to sink in for the generations who acquired them. For example, my mother-in-law is simply sick with worry about what will happen to all the Civil War era (and other) things that got passed down to her, like the wedding china/silver from her ancestors… It IS sad, bc stuff back then was of great quality and craftsmanship. But styles change, and people don’t value old things like they used to. So yes, the stuff that was once prized is basically now just junk.

In many ways, it’s an environmentalist’s nightmare, right? The insane success of the IKEA movement: Stuff made fast and cheaply, serving a fickle generation that craves changing looks, changing designs, disposable things. Even when I was a kid though, formal dinnerware never made sense to me. Beautiful, gorgeous bone china or porcelain just taken out once a year and otherwise left to gather dust? I looked up their Noritake Barrymore collection on EBay. A huge 4-person set sells for like $150 max, and then you gotta ship that shit. Mom kept asking if I wanted to fly back. Um, no. What, so I can clean your house? I mean, it wasn’t the nicest thing to say, but I dunno, sometimes it’s annoying that I get tasked with all the shit and chores and dirty work, and then what the fuck does my brother have to do? Not a damn. thing. She insisted it was to see what I might want. I mean, other than one Scandanavian lounger that J and I are storing there and a silk rug, there’s pretty much nothing else. Now sure, I have my own shit from childhood and from Reston there. I will have to clear the rest of it out eventually. But I just can’t imagine going through everything while dealing with my mother. She claims that since I never want her clothes (minor jab), she gave all kinds of clothes to the realtor’s daughters and granddaughters. Um, I have no idea what young people would want with outdated and/or old people clothes but whatever. She insists that the realtor took the items happily. Fine. Let’s see if the youngins actually take it from the realtor. Whatever. Maybe I will go over when they are overseas and just spend a week there selling shit.

Ugh, then there’s the whole realtor thing. I’m handling the sale of one of the townhouses. As I discussed with dad, the point was to try out my realtor and if he did well, have him sell the family home. Well now it seems like they are going to go with the Chinese lady who sold my grandparents’ house. Why didn’t you just say you wanted to go with her from the start? Then, the townhouse was supposed to be empty by end of May. Moved back to mid June bc the tenants asked to finish out the school year. Now, it’s end of June. I mean, stop moving the fucking target date!! Either shit is getting done, or shit is dragging out.

Meanwhile, there is still no resolution on what to do with my maternal grandparents. They are currently living with my dad’s dad so all the oldies are in one place. But my mother says when she and dad go back to Taiwan for a month in May, her parents will be moved back to my parents’ house in Kaohsiung to live with them, and then what, the oldies move back to my dad’s dad’s place after my parents come back to the US in June? That’s what I’m saying. Fucking make a decision and go! And mom makes some comment like dad is not of strong enough health to be schelpping things and movin things. Um, yeah you’re just realizing this now? You are the one who worked him to a fucking nub!! Needless to say, I’m stressed again.

And Martin is not eating today. I went to Costco and picked up a whole case of fluids. Gave him 350 ml, so he’s conked out. Even if we tweak things to help his kidneys out, his back legs are wobbly. I hate to say it, but I think we’re down to the last month. I mean, I have been wrong before, but that’s what I’m thinking today.

Long Night, New Day

I had an awful night’s rest yesterday. Marty was appearing visibly weaker (even the neighbors agreed), and his appetite was not coming back. J and I started talking about how this setback was seemingly different… In the past, it just took fluids and/or a quarter pill of mirtazipine, and his appetite would come back with a vengeance. Not. this. time. He is also starting to sleep even more soundly than before, something I remember Remy started to do towards the end. Some sign like the body is shutting down. I couldn’t sleep. I tried to distract my mind by studying my real estate book, by reading about the Bernie sham (I support Clinton), by reading about the ethics and legality of password sharing (As much as I’m into deals and saving money, I’m not comfortable with this), by thinking about all the things I need to do (should I order Marty’s fluids by the case?). Yeah, I was up late.

Eventually, I did fall asleep, but then I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. I dreamed that my grandmother had died. In my dream, the entire cascade of shit communication with my family (immediate and extended) began, rife with confusion and misunderstanding and paralysis.

This morning, we had an appointment with a contractor to talk about the heating/cooling unit for the master bedroom. I know, that project is dragging ass– mainly bc the vendors are so vague with their estimates and also, the estimates are all over the fucking place. This was my final quote though. $5500. Comparable to another quote, but $2k more than a third one. We will likely proceed soon, bc Bubbey needs his AC this summer. 

After the contractor left, Marty woke up and to my pleasant surprise, he ate his food. What a fucking relief. Is he coming around again? Too early to tell. Now to see if he’ll go to the bathroom. I haven’t seen solids for two days. I was relieved with this latest bit of good news though, and then I went back to bed.

I awoke again past noon. I haven’t slept in this late in a long, long time. I still feel tired, but I gotta get moving. Gremlin juice (Diet Coke) is in order and then back to the gym. I’ve been doing the elliptical now, bc I can listen to my real estate podcasts and well, to be honest, I’m yearning for my Shanghai days of fitness when I could do cardio for 45 min easy.

Inevitable Progression


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Since returning from Europe, Martin has not been well. The sitter took great care of him, but since being home, he has had a few bouts with anxiety and his appetite is waning considerably. We have resumed giving him fluids every few days, but it doesn’t seem to work the magic that it used to. He vomited a couple of times, had diarrhea, and is visibly weaker. The hind legs are starting to give out, and he is definitely thinner.

Meanwhile, my childhood friend N is at the end now with her dog. Also suffering from kidney disease, Ally has stopped responding to everything: she is not eating and she no longer has the strength to get up. N is a vet, so she knows much more about this terrible “progressive” disease. The word, “progressive” doesn’t even seem like the right term. Progressive suggests advancement in an upward direction, but really, our puppies are degenerating right before our eyes. When I spoke with N two days ago, I tried to be optimistic: Marty and Remy bounced back so many times; maybe Ally will too. But N knows better. And today will be Ally’s last. Once again, we must say good bye to a loyal and trusted friend. I remember all of our furry companions– how much they have enriched our lives. Their time with us is just never enough. Ever.

I don’t know how much, if at all, Martin will bounce back this time. I hope that, like Nathalie, I will know when it’s time. And I will have the strength to let him go.

That’s the thing about life. There is never a good time. I was wanting this year to be one of celebration not sadness. I’m not sure that things are panning out that way. I recently got approved to be a dog sitter on Rover. My idea was to specialize in caring for old dogs, thinking it would be a way for Martin to gain some company, as he does seem to do better in the presence of a pack. But now I don’t know if that will all happen in time, bc well, “progression.” Ugh.