Not gonna let 'em catch the Midnight Rider.

Today is the two month anniversary of my mother's death.

I have my life back.

The past two years have been hellish. 

Mom was full care, entirely bed-bound, probably with Alzheimers.  Really should have been in a nursing home, but she would have died in a week.  Homes don't have the staff to take care of someone like that for years, especially when Covid hit.  

My sister and I took excellent care of her, that's why she lasted so long.  She wasn't eating or drinking very well in August and we figured she wouldn't last past September.  The last two weeks were sad and discouraging.  She was basically skin over bones. 

But, no one lasts forever.    My mother, Genevieve Gertrude, was 100 years old.  She was the last one.  My sister is now the matriarch.  

I was hardly home, usually left around 10am and came home after 10pm, sometimes later, 7 days a week.  No days off.   Everything revolved around taking care of mom.  My house looks like a hoarder lives here because I didn't have any time to clean.  I'm slowly working on it.  It still feels weird being home at a normal time.  And, I can watch whatever I want on TV!!  No more stupid cop shows!  I think I saw every episode of CSI Miami three times, at least. 

All of my pet collecting sites suffered because I had no time. 

My physical and mental health has suffered.  I have so many doctor appointments to catch up on. 

We are still adjusting.  I can't say I'm sad, as her death was truly a blessing for her.   That was no way to live.  She was dead to me a couple years ago - that fleshy body was not my mom.  I disconnected mentally pretty well.  Or so I think.  I hope I die before I become mentally impaired.  I don't have anyone to take care of me as well as we took care of her.  I have no hope for sympathy from the next generation.  

And my fav kitty, Ratchet died one week after mom.  He was 14yo and had kidney failure -  I cried hard over my stupid cat and I still miss my lovey-dovey boy.  Bluestreak is still here, but he had to cause me stress one week later, just to keep me on my toes.  He got constipated and had to go to the emergency vet.  Second time he couldn't poop.  Poor baby.  Now he gets Miralax daily to keep him regular.  Blue is also 14yo, so I won't get any more cats until he goes.  Maybe I'll get a dog, but I have to shovel my house out first.  There is absolutely no floor space for a dog.  Good thing I have no friends - I'd be too embarrassed to have anyone over with how things look. 

I'm feeding and bought outdoor houses for a couple stray? cats that hang out on my deck.  They are both tuxedo cats, one looks just like Bluestreak, and I call her? BlueTwo.  The other has long hair, and I call him? Longhair - a very original name, I know.  Bluestreak could be a great-great-great grandfather or something.   They're skittish but I can get within a couple feet of them.  They are very friendly to each other, so might be related.  They are either dumps or just wandering neighborhood cats.  I can't touch them...yet.  

Things should get better for me now.   I can't wait to go somewhere, I haven't had a real vacation for over 10 years.  We'll see what comes up next year.  

And that's the poopy-scoopy.  Good night.