nail biter

A few of you have inquired as to whether Linda actually made the train. So I guess it's time to update the blog again.

She made it. Although I wouldn't say without the now-too-common drama that surrounds her.

Rick had taken off of work that day and he had told his mom that they'd be leaving for the train station at 2:30 pm. The train was set to leave at 4:40 pm and with the traffic, he wanted to make sure they had plenty of time to make it downtown and get her checked in.

I'd warned him about her denial in packing. The last time I had to take her to the train back in early August, she would tell me that she was packed, and I had come home to find that she hadn't even started, overwhelmed by the prospect.

So with this experience, and knowing that she is incapable of making decisions, I knew that if Rick didn't take time to help her pack, we'd be in the same situation again.

I'll just start out and say "I told you so."

I got a phone call around 3:40 pm saying that they were just heading over to the train station and wanting to know what traffic looked like. Of course the Friday afternoon commute had already begun and so we knew it was going to be close.

I didn't ask him why they were running an hour late. I didn't need to.

At that point, I really began to wonder whether I would have a MIL-free weekend, or if I would come home to a frazzled, anxious MIL who had to yet again reschedule her train.

At 5 pm, Rick called. Pure relief swept over me as I realized she'd made the train with 5 minutes to spare. Well, not my MO, but at least I knew we'd have a few weeks of peace and quiet while she was back in Minnesota visiting her sister.

I came home from work to see what devastation had been left behind in her fury to get out the door.

Yep, suitcase with some coat hangers sitting in the living room. What would her bedroom upstairs look like?

I hadn't been in there in awhile. She got edgy if she thought we were checking on her, and so I let it go, realizing that left to her own devices, she'd fall back into her old habits.

Clearly I know her well by now. I opened the bedroom door. Evidence of a rush out the door for sure. The bed was covered in clothes. On the right side of the wall was a pile of plastic bags and trash on the floor. Exhausted, I encouraged Rick that we head out to the cabin and I would dig into the clean up efforts later.

We had a lovely, Linda-free weekend. Visiting with some dear friends from my first job at a wedding reception for one of them. Friends are good for the heart and it made me feel happy and relaxed -- the first time in a long time. We then had a reception for the golf team which Rick coaches and it was nice to see how appreciative the kids and their parents were.

The weekend ended too fast and we were back to work. On Tuesday night I got home around 8 pm. Rick was still at work and so with some energy left from the day, I decided this time was good as ever to tackle the mess behind the closed door across the hall.

First things first. Clothes went back on hangers and into the closet. Only to reveal papers, trash, used paper plates and popcorn seeds under the sheets. Gross. I stripped the comforters off the bed to put aside for dry cleaning.

The nightstand drawers were filled with miscellaneous things....pills, push pins, pennies. I extracted the coins to put them aside and then made a decision. If she didn't care about these things, neither was I. If pills weren't in containers, I dumped them. If there were Altoids, they got tossed. Push pins, you name it. My time is worth more than this.

So then onto the time-consuming task of sorting the items in the plastic bags. At a glance, one would assume it was just trash bags piled up. But knowing better, I opened each one and sorted through every item in the bag -- ranging from used paper towels and paper plates to jewelry, circulars from the grocery store, envelopes marked "save," photographs. I did my best to sort things and put like items together. A box for her jewelry, regardless of whether there was a match or not. A bag for the coins. All of the medicine (in containers) went together. Photographs in an envelope.

I was on a roll. I wanted all evidence of our long-term house guest to disappear. I wanted my life back. Whatever was left got packed in boxes, all awaiting their new home when her apartment opens up in a few weeks.

Shoes, her bathroom items, the coffeemaker we bought her, the portable radio I gave her, the wall hangings we brought out here from the move from Wisconsin.

I'm not quite sure when she's coming back, but I suspect it's the Sunday after Thanksgiving.

The therapy sessions are going well. I'm getting really clear about drawing my boundaries and being clear about what I want my level of engagement to be with Linda when she does come back.

1. Once she's set up in her apartment, we are not providing financial assistance. This is the tough love for someone who squanders their limited financial resources on carrot cake, Red Bulls and cigarettes without understanding there are important bills that will need to get paid when she's on her own again.
2. If she finds herself in a bind, she's going to have to problem solve. We are not going to bail her out every time. Whether it's lost on her bike. Or ran out of money to pay the cab driver and no money in her bank account. Yep, I had to go pick her up from the grocery store in the middle of the work day after receiving a desperate, frantic call.
3. She will not be our dog sitter, we will take the dogs to the kennel if we have to leave town. With her, the dogs have pushed all of the boundaries like expecting to sleep in the bed.
4. I am not going to be her supervisor. We need to check with Social Services to see if someone can help her to clean her apartment and help her organize frequently. After spending 3 hours cleaning and packing her room, I'm done.
5. When she's in her own place, we will not be seeing her every weekend. Our weekends will not become obligatory visits.
6. If we do meet up with her, it will be in neutral territory. We can occasionally take her out to dinner....that is if she wants to go out into public. Otherwise, it'll be a quick visit.

The last fee weeks have been like running a marathon. It's been a long ride and I can see the finish line, but I need to cross it before I feel like I can rest. Hopefully the break from Linda over these few weeks will help me recharge my batteries, at least enough to get her sorted out and so that we can regain our life back.