Day 2 and this is what you get when people renovate a house and don’t know what they’re doing. They punched a hole in my wall. Assuming the entire wall was made of concrete and there was no space to get wires around the walls, they ended up going through the walls. Until I showed them the 1-inch space between the concrete and drywall.
But still, there’s now a hole the size of my fist in the downstairs wall. Granted, the electrician talked to his boss about the situation, but he obviously didn’t explain himself thoroughly and they all came to the wrong conclusion about how to deal with the situation. And then I showed them the right way.
And then I talked directly to the owner of the company. He was good about it and said he’d pay for the repairs. But, still, this shouldn’t have happened in the first place.
Anyway, the electrician showed up at 8am (which was nice to see!) and he worked hard all morning (even nicer!), and he worked through his coffee break (do people even do that anymore??). When he returned after lunch, he worked hard again and got almost everything done. Until we discovered the hole in my son’s wall downstairs. Regardless, it was nice to finally see a service person showing up and working their ass off to get a job done.
One more day and this should all be finished. Yay!
So, the worst week of my life is over. And now I’m dealing with the aftermath. It’s been ugly.
My anxiety got quite the workout last week as I found out my beloved aunt has terminal brain cancer. In our best guess, she has about a year to live.
This woman was a second mother to me when I was a little girl. I practically grew up on their ranch which was just across the oil road from our own feedlot. I spent a lot of time with her when I was a kid.
And I don’t know how my cousins are dealing with this. Again. They lost their dad a few years ago to a heart attack while he was fishing. And now this. My cousins are like my siblings because we were so close growing up. My entire family is already in mourning. And it’s really hard to watch.
Death doesn’t bother me. I know that sounds morbid, but let me explain. I’ve never been scared of death. I’m more scared of dying. Considering what my aunt has gone through in the past few years, after her initial cancer diagnosis, she’s come to terms with her situation. The chemo and radiation were so hard on her. And it bothered me to see her so weak and frail because she has always been a tough ranching lady.
She knows she’s dying. But she has refused chemo and radiation therapy from now on. I respect her decision because it’s her decision. And it’s her quality of life that’s important. She seems happier now than she has in years. When she passes, I’ll know she lived out her life on her terms. And I’ll be happy that she’s not in pain any longer.
As for an afterlife, that’s a different discussion that I’ll save for another day.
But, for now, I hope my aunt is surrounded by people who love her. I hope she lives out the last days of her life in the way she wants. And I will forever be grateful to this woman for helping to give me such wonderful memories during my childhood.