My mother's funeral is on Wednesday

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Well written. Thank you! I was defensive about my mother when I figured out that as she was only just paying the bills for the first year or two after her divorce. My younger brother and I were still living with her, and I felt like a drain on her finances. But, I remember her proudly describing how one paycheck of hers had made it possible for her to improve a small guest bathroom into something for herself. She repainted, and set out some decorative candy-apple red washcloths and hand towels. She was so happy to give herself some self-caring.

So, some months ago, when I realized that one or more of our CNA staffers had started using the decorative towels to clean up her bowel movements, I seethed. I kept it to myself, of course, but I laundered the towels several times over a few days, pressed them into something resembling new condition and ... hid them from the staffers. It is silly, I know, but it symbolized the first time in her adult life when she had created something personal of her own.

^^ Not silly at all. That was an act of loving reverence. That was EXACTLY what it means to "honor thy father and mother". In a nutshell.

I wish you strength and peace, and the certainty that she *still* loves you.

It was ridiculous for the CNAs to use those towels.

Towels are all over the place in care homes.

I know! Ask me, and in our house, we had a huge pile of old towels which usually got used and rewashed for dusting or cleaning appliances to which I could point them. Oh, well. I spared the decorative towels as best I could. Now, no one could surmise that they were pressed into CNA duty.

Hope all is well, and that all went as well as it possibly could on Wednesday. Thought about you.

Your care for and of her doubtless greatly eased her heart and soul, AspieUtah, and it has been a journey made at considerable personal cost to you. It may take some time to recover from this though I and many others here will be thinking of you and wishing you new strength and happier years to come. I am sorry for your loss and hope your grieving will be the start of the healing process after this arduous personal journey which you have endured alone and through which you have shown much courage, endurance, patience and love. I will be thinking of you as you traverse this to the new chapters ahead of you, in which I hope there will be much peace and joy.

ditto.

Thank you, Esmerelda Weatherwax, B19 and naturalplastic! I am, in fact, caring for me almost as much as I did for her. I have some weight to regain!

It went well, in fact, better than I anticipated. And yes, I told everyone who wanted a funny story about my mother about her looking at Redford's butt. Hehe. She laughed about it whenever I mentioned it, so I suspect it was okay to share with family and friends.

My mother's plot is in a kind of grotto surrounded by trees of all kinds. the lower branches of trees and bushes are all bare giving evidence that deer come down from the nearby mountainous canyons.

I am currently working with insurers and DMV staffers to transfer my mother's motor vehicle into my name.

Peace...

That sounds nice, and peaceful.

It is a lot like Esmerelda Weatherwax's image, but the trees are just a little shorter. And, the deer should be arriving today especially since the state just got walloped with a foot of snow.

I’m glad all is relatively harmonious with you, Mr Utah.

Me too!

Things still surprise me. Over the years, my mother had frequently asked me to accept a hand-tooled domed-top rawhide satchel that her father had made for my father. At the time, I already had and used a functional briefcase, so I declined.

Well, while my siblings were choosing estate items today for themselves, I mentioned how our mother wanted to give me the satchel. While one sibling made yet another comment of "how convenient" my claim was, I was looking through it and found ... my father's throat microphone ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Throat_microphone ) from World War II when he served as a USAAF B-17 ball-turret gunner ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ball_turret ), and a few related crew assignments. If you have seen the movie Memphis Belle, you have see these microphones in use, even though they were terrible in making other crew members understand what was transmitted.

Wow, what a nice piece of militaria! Best of all, he had saved it since 1945. It is only slightly worn, but is dusty, and shows signs of sweat on its mesh-fabric strap.

You seem to be coping well, and although insensitive comments from siblings can be very upsetting, in a time of grief, it's good to see you sailing over them and savouring meaningful things.

We have two little momentoes of the my maternal grandfather's time in Egypt and the bloodbath of Gallipoli from WW1.
The most meaningful of them has come down to me. It is a sterling silver square locket with thick sides on a silver chain, which was a gift before he went to the amphitheatre of the war. It is especially precious to me because of the dent in it caused by a Turkish bullet. The locket probably saved his life. I wouldn't have existed but for this gift to him. He came home in one piece, and had a reasonably good life, unlike many of those returned soldiers who suffered terribly.

How precious these things are. The other is a tooled leather wallet with beautiful engraving and colouring showing the pyramids, which he bought in Egypt. Let nobody, siblings or anyone else, rain on the meaningfulness of these things; I hope you find much comfort in yours always, these tangibles connections and symbols that we have which have such important meaningfulness for us. I have passed the wallet on to my eldest grandson.

When I wear and hold the locket, there are moments of connection I feel with him, as an ancestor and a decent human being who did his best. I think those men lived with a great deal of survivor guilt, though they were not responsible for the bloodbath of their compatriots. They hated war. Really really hated it, and many refused to take part in military parades afterwards. It sickened them. Churchill was no hero to them. Many became lifelong pacifists.

I hope that things go well finalising your mother's estate, despite your siblings' previous unkindnesses. It was you that was there for her in her final chapter, not them. Hold onto that. It was you who walked the walk, while they talked the talk.