Please Don't Ask Me...

 ...about the house.  (For clarity:  I am talking about the house that my parents lived in at the Jersey Shore.)  I realize that you mean well.  (Or at least most of you do...if you've read you know who I mean.)

My mom died a year ago Sunday.  My dad died last Saturday.  I am NOT focused on the house right now.  I am working on organizing a memorial down at the shore later this month.  (Which is turning out to be a lot more complicated than I thought it would be and SHOULD be.)  I am thinking about the graveside service that is scheduled for tomorrow morning.  I planning for the people that might come back to our house afterwards.  (Have no idea how many; so I've ordered some food and have some beverages and think I have enough.  I probably have too much, but that's how I roll.)  I am fielding phone calls and messages from friends and relatives, which I appreciate (if you're reading this Amanda, Linda, Pat, Joanne, Don, and Meg...each of you really soothed me), but which takes up time and energy.  (And my energy level is pretty low right now.)  I am working remotely and have been since Thursday.  (Yes, I have more time off, but with taking a vacation 3 days last week and having another 3 days off this week at the end of the 2nd quarter, I knew it was going to be nuts....And it IS. I didn't want to continue to pile that on my manager and co-workers.)  I am attending to millions of little things in my life, some of which have to do with my dad's passing and some of which are just "stuff" that has to be dealt with.

I have some incredible support from "my guys" as well as from extended family and friends, but this is still an exhausting time.  I'm not as focused as I'd like because my head keeps flitting from one thing to the next.  Please DON'T ask me about the house.

I'd like to think I'm a nice person.  (Or at least nicish?  Is that a word?)  When people have asked what I am going to do about the house, I've tried to be polite.  However, I inside I was screaming:  "My dad isn't even buried yet...DON'T ask me about the house.  Leave me the F*** alone." I know most of you mean well, but please don't talk about the house.

I am well aware of the value of a home at the beach.  I am well aware of the assets and flaws of the property.  I’ve spend more time than you might think weighing my pros and cons.  As a reasonably intelligent woman, I’m asking you please don’t ask about the house.

I may have shared what I thought I might do with the house when I inherited it in the past.  Those plans might have changed.  They might have not.  But please don't ask me about the house.

When I am ready I will share my thoughts and plans with people who I want to share my thoughts and plans with.  (How's that for a mouthful.)  When am READY.  That's probably not going be tomorrow or next week or even next month.  When I am ready, I will share, but until then PLEASE DON'T ASK ABOUT THE HOUSE!!!!

(Side Note:  there is also a car and other items that I have to make decisions about.  Funnily, no one has asked me about those yet.  Please don't.  Thank you.)

(Final side note:  I haven’t just been dealing with this issue this week.  When my mother died, I got plenty of unsolicited calls, emails and snail mail.  So I’ve dealt with vultures before.  I know that MOST of the people who have inquired about the house mean well this time around.  But I need love and support, not questions.  Thank you for understanding.)


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