I know I’ve done a lot of complaining and whining about my MIL over the last year or so, and I promise it’s because I was using this place as my pressure relief valve. And I truly appreciate that you’ve either tolerated or ignored my rants.
Now, the real story. My MIL was truly a sweet and kind person. FCD and I had barely been married 4 months when I had surgery for an ovarian cyst, and MIL took me into her home to help during my recovery, since I wasn’t supposed to use stairs (which our house had.) Over the years, she helped without interfering – if I didn’t ask, she didn’t offer opinions. She helped care for Daughter – getting her on the school bus and retrieving her after school – for 3 or 4 years (I can’t recall.)
She was always very active, whether it meant yard work or helping FIL in his woodshop or helping her 3 sons. She loved to go camping – she was a real down-to-earth person. And animals!! OMG she loved dogs and cats and anything she could pet. Once she took in a baby squirrel she found on the road and nursed it back to health! But there was one incident years ago.
Her parents kept chickens, and as a child, she was trying to play with them. One little peeper bit her, and she immediately smashed it and sent it to its chicken reward. That earned her the nickname Chick, which stayed with her to the very end!
These last years as she lost her sight and, consequently, her license, she needed to rely on others for things she always did herself – I know that was hard for her. But she never stopped. She was determined and somewhat stubborn, as I may have mentioned on occasion. 
She and FIL were married for nearly 74 years when he died. She’d graduated high school, turned 18, and got married all in the same week in 1949 – she knew what she wanted even then! And she’d been kinda lost since he died in January 2023. Giving up her apartment and moving in with us was probably one of the hardest decisions she had to make – the last loss of independence. She knew it was for the best, but she still hated to put us out, despite anything we said. Honestly, what really irritated me was when she tried to NOT be a bother, and I ended up having to clean up after her. But I understood, and I vented here.
FCD was sitting with her when she died. I think that was important to him – he’d have felt guilty if he was watching TV in another room leaving her alone. But she’s gone now. And after we get her cremains back, we need to plan a trip to Cades Cove – his parents want their ashes spread there. We’ll deal with all the paperwork. We’ll pack up her belongings and deal with her estate, such as it is. The medical supply company will come get all the equipment she’s used. And gradually, we’ll get back to our lives.
RIP Mary Jane
^^^
I wrote all that last night while waiting for the folks from the funeral home to arrive. Once she was gone, it was so weird. FCD said at one point, he felt like he had to go back and check on her. I’d made sure to close her bedroom door for the night. It took me a bit to fall asleep - it was after 1 - but I slept thru till 7. He’s still sleeping.
We’d split the phone calls we needed to make, plus I texted Jessica and he texted Cathy - after 7 months, I’ll miss seeing both of them, altho Jess said she’d come by and pick up the lap blankets as I finish them. Honest-to-goodness, everyone from Hospice was amazing - the help and support and compassion made a trying situation just a little easier to deal with.
FCD called his brother, whose reaction was “I guess both my parents are gone now.” He’s the big unknown now.
The equipment will be picked up today or tomorrow - there’s the hospital bed and table, the O2 concentrator and separate tank, and maybe something else - I can’t recall. The nurse, Rebecca, took all the meds, as well as the bed alarm and the baby monitor (which actually was hers.) We’ve got bags of depends and diapers that we have to toss because they were opened, and they’re too small for either of us to use should they be needed. All of her clothing has to go, too - none of it would fit anyone, plus, frankly, they were the style preferred by a 90+ y/o woman.
Once the bed is gone, I’ll run the steam cleaner over the carpet in that room. Then SIL will help us get the bed up from the basement and haul a recliner down there. The other recliner will go home with him. There are lamps - so many lamps! And pillows!!! And all the knicky-knack things and photos - I can’t make the call on those so when FCD is ready…
I feel like he and I should go away, if only for one night. I’ll do a little googling and see what’s within a short drive that might do. We’ve got reservations in January at the ocean, and we need to figure out when we’ll take the cremains.
And once we’ve got the certificates, there’s social security and the retirement benefits folks to contact. Thankfully we were joint on her bank account, so that’s easily dealt with. And her purse - I forgot about that.
So after I run a couple of errands in Leonardtown this morning, I’ll start with all those chores. And life will find its new normal.
Thank you all for being here for me - it’s meant more than you can possibly know!
