Everyone in the extended family had been nervous about how my mom's youngest brother would react to both families and strangers touching all the STUFF from what has really been just HIS house for three years. He has historically been sort of like a really tall, loud old toddler. Some tantrums sometimes, particularly during times of grief..which is mostly all he's experienced (he took care of both parents with cancer and his uncle..and care taking is excrutiating.)
The point is, there was a policeman at the "distribution of property."A lot of that had to do with the fact that there were 5 guns up for grabs.
Here's how it actually went down:
|Here's the the allegedly stolen cat that caused a rift |
between my mom and her parents for years. It's all hers now.
In the background, the cop's Honda.
And that damn long-necked ceramic black cat. This was a bone of contention for years..my grandparents accused my mother of stealing the cat, which was allegedly hers as a child ..and I don't know at which point the fucking thing shattered and was badly glued back together,
|SO worth fighting over. WTF?|
|The heirlooms: Teapots, photos, desert bowls, |
a real fur collar & a pretty powerful old rifle.
It will pay to get my mom in a nice place closer to me..but she still won't have occasion to wear her newly inherited jewels, or the fur collar coat. (She wouldn't be caught dead in real fur, Alzheimer's or not) For her end table, I procured this milk bottle glass lamp (and matching vase filled with dusty silk roses) and of course quoted "The Jerk" after doing so. You'll be pleased to know that at no time did I have my pants around my ankles. (Although I did get teary when I discovered my grandma's "Cub Scouts Den Mother" pendant, because I was one, too)