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pheon I have posted a call for memories, if you have memories of my Dad to share. I've also posted more details of what happened, now that I have them.
This morning was hard. Calling people and telling them - I called few people last night, because it was so late when I had gotten the news and the contact info and all. (Though I did call Uncle Jim, Dad's brother, then. And woke him up, which I felt sort of guilty for, and yet I'd have felt bad for not calling right away also, so....)
Those were hard conversations. I also called the lawyer and got some of the info I needed, called the funeral home back and set up an appointment to talk to them, rescheduled it when I realized making it required a teleporter, and got ahold of the Sheriff's office. Because Dad had been on his way to talk to the lawyer about Mom, he'd had her will with him. I needed that released from the vehicle, and I also had a few more questions about what happened. I'm not getting full details - I don't what to know what the truck looked like, or what all his injuries were. But I did learn the details posted in his journal, and that was about exactly the level I want. (If I want more info later, I can ask the sheriff - they keep those on file for 7 years or so. But...yeah. Not now. Maybe not ever.)
We drove to Newberg to get into the safety deposit box where Dad's will was. Only I couldn't get in. Just last week I'd mentioned we needed to get me on the signature thingy, and he reminded me I was - he'd brought me a card, I'd signed it, he'd filed it. I'm not sure where that went wrong, but the bank didn't have it. They DID have me in their system, but not attached to that account. I've never used that bank before, so...either I'm co-listed on some of the accounts, or I was once there and it was totally lost. No way to know; doesn't really matter. I called Uncle Jim, who called the bank, which told him (after establishing he was himself) that he was indeed on the box.
At that point we had to go talk to the funeral home. I cried so much there. I have been crying a lot, though - I know that will be usual for a while but it was especially hard dealing with all those questions. I had to call Uncle Jim for two answers, but only two - the rest either I knew or they were in the excellent, organized documentation Dad had prepared a while back "just in case" and been keeping updated since. I wish I didn't need it, but at least it made this much easier logistically. Nothing can make it easier emotionally, but a botched logistics could have made it worse, so I'm glad not to have that at least. Since there won't be a service, I have until Tuesday to get an obituary together. We will run it in the Newberg Graphic since he and Mom lived there for 26 or 27 years (I forget exact count) and know many people around town at least in passing. I plan to get a few copies, as well as maybe emailing the text to my relatives in Ohio (we'll see). Dad will be cremated. They didn't have any urn I loved, but they had an acceptable one in a sort of pewter hue that will go with Mom's nicely, I hope. Hers is silver, but the silver one they had was highly polished with ornate swirls, very gaudy. I didn't like it at all. The design would be lovely on a fancy bowl in a silver service, but not on an urn, to my eyes. So I got the pewter one - it was a little plain for my tastes. I want to see it next to Mom's, and I may add something around the narrow part of it. Or I may not. I could have had them contact Autumn and get a matching urn, but I didn't want identical, just something that seemed to go decently.
I was given a little bag with the things that Dad had on him that were salvageable, that had not been taken by the sheriff's office for the crash followup. His watch, his ring (somewhat flattened, which I am half dwelling on and half trying not to think about), and his cell phone. The one he got when Mom was getting so sick, the one he got with Cingular so that we could call each other without minutes being used. It was very useful, for a little while. I still need to check and see what numbers are on it, but that's for another day. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe not.
Then up to the Sheriff's Office where we got some more of the info in the details, and the papers that had been retrieved. Dad had been carrying them in a little leather case, so they were fine (though its exterior has some scuffing - maybe it was there before, but I'm trying not to think about it). The will in its sealed envelope...and darnit, the card that Dad was mailing to the hospice folks to donate was in there too. I don't know if I can just drop that in the mail since it would be postmarked after his death. I assume I can - the lawyer has told me that the copy of the will he has names me as the executor and sole heir, so it's not like I'm going to contest the donation. :P
Dad didn't have copies of the death certificate, it looks like; I managed to get a print-out of what had seemed to be a scan of that, and it's not, it's a scan of the paperwork filed for it. So I need to call Autumn (the funeral home that handled Mom's cremation) and confirm with them that those have not come through yet, which I think is the case, and wait for them.
Then up to the bank (the personnel were as helpful and kind as law permits during both encounters, by the way - not sure how things got messed up with the card but they are good people), meeting Uncle Jim there, and getting into the safety deposit box - now I have both wills (and a bunch of other papers) to take with me to the lawyer's, which appointment is scheduled Thursday of next week. At 1 pm, thank you. All day was open but there was no way I was going for a morning appointment. (And if the weather is at all questionable, I cancel.)
And Uncle Jim and I talked for a bit, and hugged, and it was so good to see him again. I am like him, and my Dad - it is too easy to fall out of contact. And seeing him again reminds me why I think that is unfortunate - I lose track of people I like, love, care about, want to know. We will get together again sometime - when we are both a little steadier. I'm pretty sure that for me, that won't be until after Christmas at least.
From there out to my parents' house (I'd started the habit of calling it Dad's house, trying to get used to that, but since they both died in a single month - it really is their place, in my memory). The indoor cats were doing okay and didn't seem at all disconcerted to have been in all day although they both really wanted to say hi. Scott and I had brought Subway sandwiches out and I was eventually obliged to distract the cats from them by putting out some canned food (a gift I'd brought over as a treat for them - I brought three little cans, two were gone already and one left) out as a distraction. I suppose they will now expect that any time we eat over there....
Dad had told me he'd gotten fruit to share with me (with my name on the card), before he died - he was going to split it with me later in the week. So I found the fruit and brought it home, since letting it spoil seems useless. I went through the refrigerators and any still-fully-packaged meat and cheese went into the freezer. As I told Scott, I can't deal with it now, so it either survives being tossed in the freezer, or it doesn't survive either way. There's a lot of stuff there that's not really on our diet but I can't see letting it go to waste either, so we'll see.
I spent a few minutes just touching the sleeves of his shirts that hung in the closet. And tomorrow I will run laundry - Dad had left a load in the dryer (fine) and one in the washer (oops - luckily just one carpet, I think the one from the kitchen that he'd mentioned he was trying to get clean) when he left. I'm going to see if a re-wash and a dry will sort that out. If not, oh well, at least I found it soon.
I forgot to feed the outside cats, but Dad said they were going through about half a tub a day, so they should be okay until tomorrow.
Buz Norby came over while we were there. And a woman that I should have known and didn't, and I was too disoriented to ask / figure out. They had been worried - they hadn't known Mom had already passed away, so they were afraid she was there at home, living as a recluse, and they got really worried when all the lights were out (we turned them out when we left last night). Oops! We explained, and they offered sympathies and we traded phone numbers - they will watch the house for us, as they can.
I was very reluctant to leave - kept re-petting cats - but eventually we did go, of course. Poor kitties. I feel so guilty, leaving them alone overnight. Of course they've done that before when my parents travelled, a few years back, so the discomfort and guilt are more in my mind than anywhere else. I don't know if Basta cried for Dad in the middle of the night, but she seemed okay when I was there. I suspect she maybe didn't - she cried as Mom was dying, but after Mom was gone (her body removed, not just dead), Basta was okay curling up on the hospital bed. It was removing that also that seemed to get to her, and Dad's bed is still right there. She sleeps curled in the middle of it - where she often was to be found napping when my parents were alive, also.
I feel so odd posting to Dad's journal, especially since LJ then sends me notifications that he has posted (I had notifications on for his posts while Mom was ill, and then left them on after). I suppose I should turn that off....
Anyway, we headed back over here and I've been here for a while, sort of poking around the net and taking a break from thinking hard about doing-doing-doing (all the stuff getting sorted out before the holiday weekend, as best I could). Tomorrow I intend to take the morning easy, then go out to my parents' place for the cats again (and will try to feed the barn cats this time - eep!), then come home. Scott has a game tomorrow night. He was willing to skip/cancel if I wanted, but I think as long as the weather is good (which it should be), I will be fine, though I've asked him to check in a bit more than normal (ie, when he arrives safely, when he is about to leave).
I'm not sure time by myself is a good thing yet. But I'm also not sure it isn't. And we have cell phones. Funny. I didn't like cell phones. I got one reluctantly, bowing to necessity (and the siren call of toy, I guess, but mostly necessity) and fear (of being stranded, say, or of not knowing if Scott was okay). I have been so very, very grateful for them over and over since we got them. For so many reasons I wish weren't there, but as they are...so glad we have them.
I'm starting to feel more normal physically. My body went into its charming shock reaction and as a consequence I've been eating light (but drinking plenty). Today I feel normal hunger and have wanted to eat, rather than making myself eat. Still picking foods carefully but getting better on that front.
Speaking of which, my coworkers are planning to bring gifts and food by - another coworker sent a basket with fruit and sweets - there's the fruit that Dad had mentioned that I brought home - our neighbors across the street gave us a flower, and food, including a roast chicken (small, thank goodness). I don't have to worry about food (other than "will my body accept it" - and most of these are foods that the answer is or soon will be yes) for a while. I was very amused/surprised - if I knew our neighbors' names, I'd forgotten, or at least both of them (one or the other wouldn't have caused me to be amused, both together does). Why? They are Lori and Scott. To our Laura and Scott.
They're also very very thoughtful, especially as we didn't tell them (but the deputies told Scott about Dad outside, as he arrived just after they did, so I don't know how many people in the neighborhood know but some were around and could have heard, he said). I don't think I ever said that - they found Scott first. I was still at work, they'd gotten our home address, he turned onto the street just after them. They tracked me down partly through LiveJournal. Dad didn't have info on him about next of kin, so they first tried his house, but the neighbors didn't even know Mom had passed away. Then they went to the mailbox and found a card with a return address from Pennsylvania (I have that card now), and since it looked personal, sent someone out in Pennsylvania to talk to the person who sent it. That person knew about our LJs (or Dad's, not sure - but Dad's would lead to mine, obviously). They then got to me from my LJ. I assume that means they contacted LJ (I have our address and such in a contact info post the administrators can access), because I don't remember posting our address publically. They'd found me by name (they had my full name), but they hadn't been completely sure which of the people with my name they'd found was me. This confirmed it, so they sent someone out, and told Scott, who came and got me from work and told me and held me.
I'm so glad he was the one at home. It meant that he was there and holding me when I learned. Though I'm sorry he had to hear it alone; better if we'd been together then. But...I'm still glad it wasn't me.
I'm rambling. I do that, but I've suddenly come to the end of a sentence and found I have little to follow it with. Except that the four BPAL decants I was waiting for arrived. The bubblewrap around them did NOT want to come open (lots of tape). I'd been awaiting these so eagerly but, probably needless to say, they're fairly dulled for me now. Still, I will smell and try them while I can still order bottles if I want. But not tonight. Probably not tomorrow, at least not until evening.
Among the books in the library is Clifford Simak's Waystation. Dad lent it to me last weekend to read, saying it was a very good book. I enjoyed it a great deal, and had told him so and that I'd return it to him this weekend. I find myself thinking that I am glad that I didn't wait until I could return it to tell him that I had enjoyed it and was glad he had recommended it....
I want to reply to all the messages. And I will but, again, not tonight. I owe emails to a number of people too. And I know I can probably take as much time as I want and everyone would understand - but the sense of connection formed by the words flowing back and forth means a lot to me now. Every comment, every email, is so very precious to me now. Every hug, every word, every bit of caring, every promise to pray for us or think of us or light a candle, everyone who has hurt like this and can remind me of what I know in my mind if not yet my body - that I will be okay - and everyone who has not hurt like this and who still reaches out to me with sympathy and caring.
There may not be right words. But right now, the fact of the words matter. (Well, okay, within reason. You know what I mean.)
I go to bed now. Because I am very very tired indeed. I didn't sleep well last night, as you might imagine, though I got enough that I felt functional today...right up until, oh, about 5 minutes ago. I wasn't quite ready to stop typing this post then, though. Now I am.
pheon I have posted a call for memories, if you have memories of my Dad to share. I've also posted more details of what happened, now that I have them.This morning was hard. Calling people and telling them - I called few people last night, because it was so late when I had gotten the news and the contact info and all. (Though I did call Uncle Jim, Dad's brother, then. And woke him up, which I felt sort of guilty for, and yet I'd have felt bad for not calling right away also, so....)
Those were hard conversations. I also called the lawyer and got some of the info I needed, called the funeral home back and set up an appointment to talk to them, rescheduled it when I realized making it required a teleporter, and got ahold of the Sheriff's office. Because Dad had been on his way to talk to the lawyer about Mom, he'd had her will with him. I needed that released from the vehicle, and I also had a few more questions about what happened. I'm not getting full details - I don't what to know what the truck looked like, or what all his injuries were. But I did learn the details posted in his journal, and that was about exactly the level I want. (If I want more info later, I can ask the sheriff - they keep those on file for 7 years or so. But...yeah. Not now. Maybe not ever.)
We drove to Newberg to get into the safety deposit box where Dad's will was. Only I couldn't get in. Just last week I'd mentioned we needed to get me on the signature thingy, and he reminded me I was - he'd brought me a card, I'd signed it, he'd filed it. I'm not sure where that went wrong, but the bank didn't have it. They DID have me in their system, but not attached to that account. I've never used that bank before, so...either I'm co-listed on some of the accounts, or I was once there and it was totally lost. No way to know; doesn't really matter. I called Uncle Jim, who called the bank, which told him (after establishing he was himself) that he was indeed on the box.
At that point we had to go talk to the funeral home. I cried so much there. I have been crying a lot, though - I know that will be usual for a while but it was especially hard dealing with all those questions. I had to call Uncle Jim for two answers, but only two - the rest either I knew or they were in the excellent, organized documentation Dad had prepared a while back "just in case" and been keeping updated since. I wish I didn't need it, but at least it made this much easier logistically. Nothing can make it easier emotionally, but a botched logistics could have made it worse, so I'm glad not to have that at least. Since there won't be a service, I have until Tuesday to get an obituary together. We will run it in the Newberg Graphic since he and Mom lived there for 26 or 27 years (I forget exact count) and know many people around town at least in passing. I plan to get a few copies, as well as maybe emailing the text to my relatives in Ohio (we'll see). Dad will be cremated. They didn't have any urn I loved, but they had an acceptable one in a sort of pewter hue that will go with Mom's nicely, I hope. Hers is silver, but the silver one they had was highly polished with ornate swirls, very gaudy. I didn't like it at all. The design would be lovely on a fancy bowl in a silver service, but not on an urn, to my eyes. So I got the pewter one - it was a little plain for my tastes. I want to see it next to Mom's, and I may add something around the narrow part of it. Or I may not. I could have had them contact Autumn and get a matching urn, but I didn't want identical, just something that seemed to go decently.
I was given a little bag with the things that Dad had on him that were salvageable, that had not been taken by the sheriff's office for the crash followup. His watch, his ring (somewhat flattened, which I am half dwelling on and half trying not to think about), and his cell phone. The one he got when Mom was getting so sick, the one he got with Cingular so that we could call each other without minutes being used. It was very useful, for a little while. I still need to check and see what numbers are on it, but that's for another day. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe not.
Then up to the Sheriff's Office where we got some more of the info in the details, and the papers that had been retrieved. Dad had been carrying them in a little leather case, so they were fine (though its exterior has some scuffing - maybe it was there before, but I'm trying not to think about it). The will in its sealed envelope...and darnit, the card that Dad was mailing to the hospice folks to donate was in there too. I don't know if I can just drop that in the mail since it would be postmarked after his death. I assume I can - the lawyer has told me that the copy of the will he has names me as the executor and sole heir, so it's not like I'm going to contest the donation. :P
Dad didn't have copies of the death certificate, it looks like; I managed to get a print-out of what had seemed to be a scan of that, and it's not, it's a scan of the paperwork filed for it. So I need to call Autumn (the funeral home that handled Mom's cremation) and confirm with them that those have not come through yet, which I think is the case, and wait for them.
Then up to the bank (the personnel were as helpful and kind as law permits during both encounters, by the way - not sure how things got messed up with the card but they are good people), meeting Uncle Jim there, and getting into the safety deposit box - now I have both wills (and a bunch of other papers) to take with me to the lawyer's, which appointment is scheduled Thursday of next week. At 1 pm, thank you. All day was open but there was no way I was going for a morning appointment. (And if the weather is at all questionable, I cancel.)
And Uncle Jim and I talked for a bit, and hugged, and it was so good to see him again. I am like him, and my Dad - it is too easy to fall out of contact. And seeing him again reminds me why I think that is unfortunate - I lose track of people I like, love, care about, want to know. We will get together again sometime - when we are both a little steadier. I'm pretty sure that for me, that won't be until after Christmas at least.
From there out to my parents' house (I'd started the habit of calling it Dad's house, trying to get used to that, but since they both died in a single month - it really is their place, in my memory). The indoor cats were doing okay and didn't seem at all disconcerted to have been in all day although they both really wanted to say hi. Scott and I had brought Subway sandwiches out and I was eventually obliged to distract the cats from them by putting out some canned food (a gift I'd brought over as a treat for them - I brought three little cans, two were gone already and one left) out as a distraction. I suppose they will now expect that any time we eat over there....
Dad had told me he'd gotten fruit to share with me (with my name on the card), before he died - he was going to split it with me later in the week. So I found the fruit and brought it home, since letting it spoil seems useless. I went through the refrigerators and any still-fully-packaged meat and cheese went into the freezer. As I told Scott, I can't deal with it now, so it either survives being tossed in the freezer, or it doesn't survive either way. There's a lot of stuff there that's not really on our diet but I can't see letting it go to waste either, so we'll see.
I spent a few minutes just touching the sleeves of his shirts that hung in the closet. And tomorrow I will run laundry - Dad had left a load in the dryer (fine) and one in the washer (oops - luckily just one carpet, I think the one from the kitchen that he'd mentioned he was trying to get clean) when he left. I'm going to see if a re-wash and a dry will sort that out. If not, oh well, at least I found it soon.
I forgot to feed the outside cats, but Dad said they were going through about half a tub a day, so they should be okay until tomorrow.
Buz Norby came over while we were there. And a woman that I should have known and didn't, and I was too disoriented to ask / figure out. They had been worried - they hadn't known Mom had already passed away, so they were afraid she was there at home, living as a recluse, and they got really worried when all the lights were out (we turned them out when we left last night). Oops! We explained, and they offered sympathies and we traded phone numbers - they will watch the house for us, as they can.
I was very reluctant to leave - kept re-petting cats - but eventually we did go, of course. Poor kitties. I feel so guilty, leaving them alone overnight. Of course they've done that before when my parents travelled, a few years back, so the discomfort and guilt are more in my mind than anywhere else. I don't know if Basta cried for Dad in the middle of the night, but she seemed okay when I was there. I suspect she maybe didn't - she cried as Mom was dying, but after Mom was gone (her body removed, not just dead), Basta was okay curling up on the hospital bed. It was removing that also that seemed to get to her, and Dad's bed is still right there. She sleeps curled in the middle of it - where she often was to be found napping when my parents were alive, also.
I feel so odd posting to Dad's journal, especially since LJ then sends me notifications that he has posted (I had notifications on for his posts while Mom was ill, and then left them on after). I suppose I should turn that off....
Anyway, we headed back over here and I've been here for a while, sort of poking around the net and taking a break from thinking hard about doing-doing-doing (all the stuff getting sorted out before the holiday weekend, as best I could). Tomorrow I intend to take the morning easy, then go out to my parents' place for the cats again (and will try to feed the barn cats this time - eep!), then come home. Scott has a game tomorrow night. He was willing to skip/cancel if I wanted, but I think as long as the weather is good (which it should be), I will be fine, though I've asked him to check in a bit more than normal (ie, when he arrives safely, when he is about to leave).
I'm not sure time by myself is a good thing yet. But I'm also not sure it isn't. And we have cell phones. Funny. I didn't like cell phones. I got one reluctantly, bowing to necessity (and the siren call of toy, I guess, but mostly necessity) and fear (of being stranded, say, or of not knowing if Scott was okay). I have been so very, very grateful for them over and over since we got them. For so many reasons I wish weren't there, but as they are...so glad we have them.
I'm starting to feel more normal physically. My body went into its charming shock reaction and as a consequence I've been eating light (but drinking plenty). Today I feel normal hunger and have wanted to eat, rather than making myself eat. Still picking foods carefully but getting better on that front.
Speaking of which, my coworkers are planning to bring gifts and food by - another coworker sent a basket with fruit and sweets - there's the fruit that Dad had mentioned that I brought home - our neighbors across the street gave us a flower, and food, including a roast chicken (small, thank goodness). I don't have to worry about food (other than "will my body accept it" - and most of these are foods that the answer is or soon will be yes) for a while. I was very amused/surprised - if I knew our neighbors' names, I'd forgotten, or at least both of them (one or the other wouldn't have caused me to be amused, both together does). Why? They are Lori and Scott. To our Laura and Scott.
They're also very very thoughtful, especially as we didn't tell them (but the deputies told Scott about Dad outside, as he arrived just after they did, so I don't know how many people in the neighborhood know but some were around and could have heard, he said). I don't think I ever said that - they found Scott first. I was still at work, they'd gotten our home address, he turned onto the street just after them. They tracked me down partly through LiveJournal. Dad didn't have info on him about next of kin, so they first tried his house, but the neighbors didn't even know Mom had passed away. Then they went to the mailbox and found a card with a return address from Pennsylvania (I have that card now), and since it looked personal, sent someone out in Pennsylvania to talk to the person who sent it. That person knew about our LJs (or Dad's, not sure - but Dad's would lead to mine, obviously). They then got to me from my LJ. I assume that means they contacted LJ (I have our address and such in a contact info post the administrators can access), because I don't remember posting our address publically. They'd found me by name (they had my full name), but they hadn't been completely sure which of the people with my name they'd found was me. This confirmed it, so they sent someone out, and told Scott, who came and got me from work and told me and held me.
I'm so glad he was the one at home. It meant that he was there and holding me when I learned. Though I'm sorry he had to hear it alone; better if we'd been together then. But...I'm still glad it wasn't me.
I'm rambling. I do that, but I've suddenly come to the end of a sentence and found I have little to follow it with. Except that the four BPAL decants I was waiting for arrived. The bubblewrap around them did NOT want to come open (lots of tape). I'd been awaiting these so eagerly but, probably needless to say, they're fairly dulled for me now. Still, I will smell and try them while I can still order bottles if I want. But not tonight. Probably not tomorrow, at least not until evening.
Among the books in the library is Clifford Simak's Waystation. Dad lent it to me last weekend to read, saying it was a very good book. I enjoyed it a great deal, and had told him so and that I'd return it to him this weekend. I find myself thinking that I am glad that I didn't wait until I could return it to tell him that I had enjoyed it and was glad he had recommended it....
I want to reply to all the messages. And I will but, again, not tonight. I owe emails to a number of people too. And I know I can probably take as much time as I want and everyone would understand - but the sense of connection formed by the words flowing back and forth means a lot to me now. Every comment, every email, is so very precious to me now. Every hug, every word, every bit of caring, every promise to pray for us or think of us or light a candle, everyone who has hurt like this and can remind me of what I know in my mind if not yet my body - that I will be okay - and everyone who has not hurt like this and who still reaches out to me with sympathy and caring.
There may not be right words. But right now, the fact of the words matter. (Well, okay, within reason. You know what I mean.)
I go to bed now. Because I am very very tired indeed. I didn't sleep well last night, as you might imagine, though I got enough that I felt functional today...right up until, oh, about 5 minutes ago. I wasn't quite ready to stop typing this post then, though. Now I am.
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You might consider contacting a local food pantry and dumping all the food on them. You probably don't need/want most of it anyway and it could help someone less fortunate.
Hang in there. *hugs*
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The cats are something left of theirs that I can do and help and (in the case of the indoor ones) hold and pet and cry into if I need to.
They're also precious but vulnerable (the indoor ones, anyway) living creatures and I would hope I would always think of that, but in this case it's a much simpler response than that.
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*hugs*
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There are also usually "coat drives" this time of year, where one can donate no-longer-used coats which are then given to homeless people. I've done such myself in the past, and felt good knowing that I was providing something vital for someone who had nothing, rather than just unloading stuff on Goodwill or the Salvation Army (though they too have their uses, and do good with the items they receive).
It eases my mind a bit to know that not only was Scott with you when you learned of your dad's death, but was the one who told you, and who held you in those first moments. I too am sorry that he had to learn the way he did, but it does sound like everyone is handling things as well and compassionately as can be done in these awful circumstances.
I'll be AFK the rest of the day, but you can call my cell if you need to, or want to: 206-902-6802. Also, (1) I'm very unix conversant, and thus know my way around Linux fairly well and (2) my partner
Also - I'm off work right now so would/will have some time after Christmas, if there are further logistical tasks you need an extra pair of hands onsite for. I'm close enough geographically to be there in a few hours, if needed.
**hugs**
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I think you're handling all this with amazing courage and grace. Just keep doing your best, one thing at a time; it's all anyone can ask.
**HUGS**
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I'm so sorry to hear about your father. Again, I wish that I could give you a real hug. But, a cyber hug will have to do. Take care of yourself and please pass along my condolences to Scott. *HUGS*
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I really appreciate your willingness and if anything comes up I may ask you still, but at this point it looks like that won't be needed. *hugs*
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**HUGS**