new normal?

With her train running 3 hours late, Rick and I had a few hours Saturday morning to prepare ourselves for the 1.5 hour car ride out to the other side of the mountains where Linda would be living in an apartment complex just 4 miles from our cabin.

Getting off the train, she was frazzled, but nothing out of the ordinary. It turns out she didn't get the sleeper car. When I asked Rick to make the next round of reservations for her (since she couldn't manage to get on the train any of the previous days), he inadvertently booked her for the regular seats, not even in the disability car. That proved to be quite the harrowing experience for my mother-in-law. Nothing is worse to an agoraphobe than having to sit in cattle car. Of course, after the fact, we found it to be quite humorous that she was subjected to her worst nightmare for two days straight.

After 90 minutes of chatter about her "stroke," how embarrassed she was on the train, and how everyone is out to get her, we finally made it to the apartment. Rick whisked her immediately to the manager's office to sign papers, while I took on the ominous task of opening her suitcases. My intent was to get everything put away, while filtering for trash (note-filled papers, candy wrappers) and useless (e.g., unmatched socks & gloves, broken alarm clock) items.

Once Linda walked into the apartment, she was so thrilled to see her new place. Discovering all of the things we had purchased to furnish it -- from furniture to dishes and cleaning supplies. We left as soon as we could so she could settle in and take a shower. We headed to our place to let the dogs run around in the snow and then we headed out to dinner in town and watched the Apple Cup.

On Sunday, we kept it low key. Rick took the snowmobiles out to get gas while I went into town to order our Christmas ham, prime rib and to buy a new guest bed for our cabin now that Linda has our old one.

We checked in on her a few times, and it was apparent she was right back in her old patterns. Sleeping all afternoon after being up all night. Still dwelling on all the negative things from her stay in Minnesota. And to top it off, Rick caught her smoking in her new apartment even though she promised she'd only smoke on the patio. Oh well, it's her choice now. I've learned to let it go. She's in her own place, not under my roof. Her crises are no longer my crises. I don't have to answer my phone. I don't need to engage.

We won't be out that way for two weeks, so she's on her own to get sorted out. I can only imagine what sorts of drama she's going to cook up.