Away We Go - Part Deux

Sunday, June 8, 2008:
How in the world do you tell your mother you're taking her from her independence, her home, her native state, her friends, her family?

We're all just sick. My stomach has felt like someone's punched me for the past three days, I can't believe how much I want to avoid doing this. I'm so happy Kay and Russ are here with me, there is NO WAY I could do this alone.
We have to tell Mom today because the U-Haul is coming tomorrow. Russ is changing the locks on all the doors today. (She thinks we're trying to lock her IN the house. Oh boy.)

I can't remember who actually told her. She tries to hit Russ, which was sadly humorous because she's 5'1" and weighs about 90 lbs.; a bantam hen trying to take on a bull. She starts crying, goes in her bedroom, slams the door, doesn't want to be with us.
Fair enough.

We go out on the back porch and eventually she comes out and asks if she can bring Mookie [the dog].
Yes.
She goes back in crying.

Some time passes.

She comes back out and asks if she can bring her sewing table.
Yes.
Goes in for a bit more crying.

Awhile later...
Can I wear jeans there?
Seriously. (that struck us as being so funny we couldn't stop repeating it.)

Kay says - you can wear a hoop skirt if you want.
Not so much crying now.

She's also really mad at Kay and I because we went to the 55 year old evil boyfriend's (henceforth known as EBF) church and requested he give back the key to Mom's house. Of course we were polite girls and didn't cause a scene. (No really, we were.) We waited until his [74 year old] WIFE was inside the church first. He said he didn't have it and he would drop it off later. Doesn't really matter, because we're changing the locks.

We just wanted him to know that the sweet gig he had going was O. V. E. R.
Full F***ing stop, you bastard.

So prior to us telling her she was moving to NC, EBF had broken up with her, stopping by for about three seconds to give her the key. She said we'd "...made asses of ourselves." Oh reeaallly? Good for us!

So a double whammy day for poor Mom. But honestly, it wasn't as horrible (for us) as it could have been. I was afraid she'd run away or hurt herself.

Can we start drinking now?! If any day deserves a beer (or five), it is today.

Then to sleep, perchance to dream, because tomorrow is going to be a doozy...