When It Rains, It Pours

November 9, 2015
Truer words have not been spoken... I cannot recall another time having had a better understanding of the expression "when it rains, it pours" the weeks following my mom's death have been incredibly difficult. Matters have only been made worse by untimely things going haywire.

It began the night she died, as Mike raced to drive back to Vegas from Pahrump in her final hour the transmission of her Chevy Blazer called it quits. Thankfully, it got him to the hospital safely and we were able to drive it home (just unable to use reverse). But it's sat in front of my house since waiting until we can transfer the title to sell, junk or donate it.

Days later, the washing machine at her house went kaput. And her roof started leaking. I've since purchased a new washer, but I'm still in denial over the roof. We had a massive scare when the well stopped pumping, but thankfully it only needed to be reset after a power outage.

Frank and I purchased a commercial grade elliptical Sept 12. The first one shipped was damaged, the second was in good condition but the part that allows it to incline is defective. The replacement part just arrived this week. The equipment is still not fully operational.

My Hyundai Elantra is less than two years old and has 27,000 miles and the first time I tried to drive it after surgery - it refused to start. I called roadside assistance thinking I needed to jump the battery, but no such luck. I had to have it towed. Turns out the engine blew - Didn't see that coming. The saving grace was that is under manufacturer warranty. Oh, and that morning Frank had a flat tire that couldn't be repaired. I swear we go through tires like toilet paper.

The same weekend my car died, my brother's water heater exploded damaging the items in his storage closet.

And about a month ago I reserved a yacht which I thought would be perfect for spreading my mom's ashes. But atlas, it too had engine problems. The only time it could be repaired is during our reservation. Back to the drawing board.

This doesn't even take in account the dozens of annoyances that happen day to day or the expenses that never seem to end or the aggravation of everything that comes with the territory relating to one's death.

I might just run away, if only I could walk.

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