Today is the day my parents move from their home on the water to the place in town. We were able to get into the house last night, after their signing, and have already moved a great deal of stuff over there. Mom’s cupboards are filled with the dry goods, baking pans and sheets, spices, etc. We have to move the dishes, cold food items and that will be it for the kitchen.
It has been an emotionally traumatic experience, to be honest. That I’m doing this without my brother is heartbreaking. We are all feeling it, and grief hangs heavy in the air. Maybe once we have them all moved into this new house that overwhelming feeling of his absence won’t be so palpable. But it hangs on all three of us like a stifling weight we cannot throw off.
After an exhausting day yesterday, the very last load into the new place-bam!
Dad was carrying stuff into the garage. This included a bag-similar to a Menard’s bag-and the bottom split open. A quart of paint hit the ground both on the driveway and in his garage. As I am grasping what just happened, the bag split completely and another quart of paint hit the ground-inside the garage this time. He just sat the rest of the stuff down on the workbench in the garage and walked away as I was saying “It’s okay, I’ve got this!” I think he may have gone off to cry, but I’m not sure.
So I scooped up all the paint with the two brushes that fell out of the bag, and grabbed the bucket. I needed soap-which we did not have-and a scrub brush, which we did have but I couldn’t remember where.
Mom found a very tiny bit of dish detergent left in a bottle in the laundry room, which I filled with water-shook up and used to clean the paint off the cement. She found the scrub brush too, although I have no idea where it was, and I went to work on the paint. All of it from the garage floor and cement outside the garage came off completely. The paint inside the garage, close to the work bench, came off probably 85 %. It had longer to dry and set into the old concrete than the stuff I worked on right away. Still, the clean up was fairly miraculous given the amount of paint and the lack of cleaning supplies.
That was it for us all. As I finished cleaning the mess my folks cleared up and locked up. The whole thing took about 20 minutes to clean, but that ONE THING was what broke this camel’s back.
I had planned to sleep at my parents house last night, but after the paint incident I needed to go home. Dad left for home, mom locked up and drove out just after me. I don’t know about them, but I cried all the way home. It was like: “Seriously? We haven’t had to do enough today? Now I have to clean two quarts of paint off ancient cement? Why did this have to happen?”
I have never known those bags to rip when I have my stuff in them. And, as a paint contractor, I have purchase my fair share of paint. Of course, who knows how old that bag was. The quarts of paint were brand new.
The good news, of course, is that it happened outside and not inside. So there is an upside, I suppose.
Hopefully today will go smoothly.
Honestly, I’m not sure I can take much more “not smoothly” right now.