Parents getting old

[BurtReynolds]

All the best to your grandmother.

Condolences,peeps

[Peeps]

heed my advice fellow rm'ers


with older parents you may want to start cleaning out their house of stuff they do not need.

its been two weeks and probably about 4 dozen garbage bags of garbage/unwanted things, clothes, pictures, trinkets and other things.


whew

[JuanHamm]

I'm just planning on burning my parents house down after they die

[spike]

heed my advice fellow rm'ers


with older parents you may want to start cleaning out their house of stuff they do not need.

its been two weeks and probably about 4 dozen garbage bags of garbage/unwanted things, clothes, pictures, trinkets and other things.


whew

Sound advice. We did a massive culling at my folks’ last place. It’s getting time to do one again at their new place (I always take a peek at what’s piling up when I visit), but my sister has a bunch of crap stored there too and I don’t know what’s what. I guess that means it’s her job.

[spike]

I'm just planning on burning my parents house down after they die

Hang on, is it paid off?

[Strat]

heed my advice fellow rm'ers


with older parents you may want to start cleaning out their house of stuff they do not need.

its been two weeks and probably about 4 dozen garbage bags of garbage/unwanted things, clothes, pictures, trinkets and other things.


whew

Sound advice. We did a massive culling at my folks’ last place. It’s getting time to do one again at their new place (I always take a peek at what’s piling up when I visit), but my sister has a bunch of crap stored there too and I don’t know what’s what. I guess that means it’s her job.

My moms hospice caretaker was from Africa (I forget where exactly) but we let her take all of my moms stuff and send it to her extended family back home. Definitely helped take the additional stress and sadness away

[Peeps]

heed my advice fellow rm'ers


with older parents you may want to start cleaning out their house of stuff they do not need.

its been two weeks and probably about 4 dozen garbage bags of garbage/unwanted things, clothes, pictures, trinkets and other things.


whew

Sound advice. We did a massive culling at my folks’ last place. It’s getting time to do one again at their new place (I always take a peek at what’s piling up when I visit), but my sister has a bunch of crap stored there too and I don’t know what’s what. I guess that means it’s her job.

My moms hospice caretaker was from Africa (I forget where exactly) but we let her take all of my moms stuff and send it to her extended family back home. Definitely helped take the additional stress and sadness away

thats great. my mom collected pigs. im talking a few hundred ceramic and stuffed variety. i found a group on facebook that is for pig collectors and gave them to a lady sunday morning. they will be auctioned off and the money raised will go towards a pig rescue

my mom also had a shit ton of vinyl records (albums, 45s and 78's). the albums were mostly in their sleeves and i found Neil Diamond's Jazz singer. i used to sneak into her room while she at work and listen to Coming to America all the time.

going to contact a local record store and see what i can get for all of them. motown, sinatra, dean, sammy, meatloafs bat out of hell. we will see

[Higgs]

I heard this song randomly on the way in to work this morning and it really made me stop and think for a bit. Take a few minutes out of your day and give it a listen. Life moves pretty fast and soon enough we will all be the people in this song (if we are lucky enough to make it I guess).

[E.H. Ruddock]

John Prine wrote that song!

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[Higgs]

John Prine wrote that song!

Apparently while he was still in his 20s too!

[Rangi Guy]

My last living uncle passed yesterday morning. It's hit dad hard knowing he's the last of his siblings....

[wease]

My last living uncle passed yesterday morning. It's hit dad hard knowing he's the last of his siblings....

This happened to my father-in-law last year. He’s the last of seven of them.

[spike]

My stepdad is back in the hospital after collapsing Thanksgiving morning. Turns out he has Covid and was severely dehydrated from a likely fever.

After learning about the Covid, my mom tested and she has it too. Her symptoms aren’t too bad so far, so hopefully it remains mild for her. This is the first time either of them has had it, or at least tested positive.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[wease]

Sorry to hear Spike. Hopefully they both recover quickly.

[spike]

Sorry spike. Any preexisting conditions that may complicate things?

Stepdad has advancing Parkinson’s, which has brought on congestive heart failure.

Mom’s been smoking darts regularly since the 1960s.

[spike]

Sorry to hear Spike. Hopefully they both recover quickly.

Thanks. Stepdad is already on the paxlovid treatment, and my sister is picking some up for my mom today hopefully.

[dad]

sorry, spike. speedy recovery to them.

[BurtReynolds]

Hope they feel better soon