Grieving, again

 In the last week of the year, my mother in law died.

She had an ictus an than extensive brain bleding. The country being in the situation it is, hospitals are full, and they did not admit her past ER. To be fair, she lived 15 minutes drive from a major hospital, and it took 5 hours and a half for an ambulance to come, pick her up and bring her to ER. You cannot drive yourself to ER or a family member these days, due to covid19.

By the time she was checked into ER, her brain was gone, she was in a deep coma. The doctors called my sister in law and explained she had 1 or two days left and that another ambulance would drive her back home, since they did not have free beds and she was terminal.

At least my husband, one of his brothers and his sister were with her at the end (the other 2 brothers had  unfortunately left to grab a bite some 10 minutes earlier). It was good for them I think, but really, it made me understand that it's so true when they say everyone dies alone. She was not conscious.

After all, the main measure taken by our government after months of debate on the pandemic, was spending 3 billions euros to equip schools with desks with wheels to ensure social distancing (and schools were only opened for three weeks in September, then they closed again).

Being the stubborn person I am, of course I always liked my mother in law and had a very good relationship with her. My husband is not the kind to express feelings, but I can see he's really in pain.

Since the family is strongly catholic, they had the open coffin in the house for 4 days, with people coming in from 7AM to 9PM. It was exhausting. Most people would start praying as soon as they step in, reciting what we call a Rosary (roughly, it's 50 Hail Marys, 5 PAter Nosters and a bunch of other prayers).

By the day of the funeral everyone was a train wreck - her priest son celebrated a beautiful functions, that made everyone cry (I really admire how good he was with words and memories, all without faltering - well not faltering too much). These poor guys have lost both their parents in 2020, and there's really not much anyone can do.

Finally yesterday, after the funeral, we decided to go back to our place in Milan (we won't be able to move in the new flat before the end of April).

On other news, I was late with periods for a while around Christmas, but then our hopes were crushed. Also, it seems they are putting me in the equity partners admittance process again, with a 50% chances of success. Frankly speaking, we came to a point where I'd rather not be made equity partner, but I'll develop more in the next post.

And the sad truth of how much more weight I have gained in these weeks of overeating and staying at home finally hit me very hard this morning.

This really need to go back to a weight loss blog.

Song of the day:

Snow can wait, I forgot my mittens,

Whipe my nose, get my new boots on.

I get a little warm in my heart when I think of winter

I put my hands in my fathers gloves

(...)

I hear a voice: You must learn to stand up

for yourself, 'cause I can't always be around

When you're gonna make up your mind?

When you're gonna love you as much as I do?

When you're gonna make up your mind?

These things are gonna change so fast

All the white horses are still in bed

I tell you that I'll always want you near

You say that things change

My dear, never change

I like Tori Amos, but I love Dream Theater cover for this one.

Nothing but fat

I'm still around, but not much is happening.

Except for me gaining weight, my mother cooking for 10 when it's 5 of us eating, and then nagging at me for my being fat.

Oh, and for forking out an advance payment of €280k for the flat - the purchase will be final at the end of February. The only one that seems excited about this is my nephew Luke, but then again, he's a sweetheart.

Old ones

 GrandMa is turning 97 next today. Since I'm working12319832761478946 hours a day, we baked a cake and made persimmon ice cream on Sunday to have a bit of a birthday celebration.

She has not had a good week - I think in a couple weeks or so, unless she gets better, she will no longer be able to climb stairs. I've been trying to convince the Panther that Granny needs to move in with my parents and that we can't wait any longer, but she... I dunno. Says that Granny is happy to live on her own. True I guess, but I'm really afraid she'll fall and end her days alone at the hospital, scared and abandoned (you can't visit anyone in hospitals right now, and those who check in at her age rarely check out these days).

On a different note, as Granny becomes more and more erratic, we were looking for some papers a couple weeks ago, and we found a notebook scribbled by GrandFather.

GrandFather has literally looked after me for a long time, because I did not attend kindergarden or any kind of nursery before I started school at 6. I loved him dearly, he was a great man, born 1917, capable, intelligent even though he didn't go much to school, and mostly he was good and kind.

The notebook turned out to be a story of his youth, he wrote in 2001. Despite all the difficulties, most of it transmits a pure joy of having lived a life fulfilled with satisfaction for his achievements. I also love how we wrote about GrandMa: in a tender way that is so full of respect it borders on shyness. It felt like reading "Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café", one of my favourite books.

The only sad part is really about him dating a girl born out of marriage when he was a teenager, and blaming himself on having wronged her by dating her because he knew he could not have introduced her to his family or marry her since she didn't have a father - how sad really.

I spent a night reading through his memories and shed a few tears - I'm so grateful at having found this, at having received this peace of memory. It was like being granted another day to spend with him, 14 years after he passed away.

Crystal palace

 I've signed to buy a flat in the posh district I was looking at. I found a larger flat, had a long persuasion session with Husband, brought him over to see the flat for himself, and it's done.

Now, I'll just have to work like a slave for the next 20 years to pay the mortgage, but hey, I'm going to live in the coolest place in Milan (which, if you'll forgive me, is the fucking coolest city in the world, no offense).

I think the fact that I've been quarantined last week following lunch with my friend Theo who was afterwards tested negative, helped me in the decision to hand out all my savings. I was tested negative last Friday, but spending 8 days in my 40 square meters was quite challenging.

On other news, offices are not closed here but basically no one is going and there is no way I'm taking the tube. I think, since I have scheduled appointments with my physical therapist on Tuesday and Thursday mornings (and it's next door to the office), I'll be working those day in the office, Wednesday at my place and we'll probably be spending more time by the lake, from now until year end.

And hopefully I'll manage to move by February at latest.

The small joys work gives us...

 ... include when, in the same videocall, held in English and involving people who struggle with English, manage to say:

I'm kinky! (I think instead of Kidding)

and also (same guy)

I have an erection (I think he meant "I have a reaction" but not sure!)