We filled a PODS container with half of our possessions. We just relocated our kitchen stuff to an alternative site in the basement because major demolition is commencing. We pulled out a wall ourselves. We moved all the beds into one room. We re-arranged much of our furniture to make space for renovations and still allow for some reasonable living accommodations. We emptied a couple closets that disappeared and re-organized all our linens and blankets and Things We Keep In Closets into other closets. The house actually looks remarkably organized.

I can’t find anything.

I am completely addled by all the changes. I am addled, rattled, confused, anxious, and fussy. I can’t think straight. Lately, several times a day, I find myself pacing slowly in the living room, wondering blankly where stuff is. I’m not even looking for anything in particular. I feel like an old dog, aimlessly wondering where my bones are.

Last week I put together a little letter package to send to my mom. She wanted help closing out a little investment account, and the form the financial company sent her after receiving her first form request was — NEWS FLASH — confusing. Why do insurance companies have to dick around so with elders? She sent it to me. I read it and highlighted the spots she needs to sign, wrote her a note explaining things, added a pre-addressed and stamped envelope for her to mail the form in, and sealed that little secretarial package up and addressed it to her.

Then I lost it. I left it somewhere in the house with a mental note to drop it in the mail next time I went out, but that never happened. I have hunted far and wide for that blasted envelope for the last 6 or 7 days. I looked through the garbage. I rifled through what few drawers and shelves remain in the house. I went through all my recycled bags and backpacks. Nothing. I called the company to see what to do next. I found the power of attorney mom gave me and was going to fax it over so I could get on this, and then I got swept away by all the mess of getting things ready for demolition and the architectural review board stress. In other words, I forgot about it.

My iPhone chimed today and I saw the call was from Mom. Bleeeeah. I wasn’t ready to deal with her asking me why I hadn’t come through for her yet, so I ignored the call. But I felt really guilty about that a couple minutes later so I listened to her message.

“Hi Cahla! Thank you for sending me the letter! I really appreciate it and I’ve sent the form in. I know you’re busy with your construction, and that can be very confusing.”

You’re not kidding, Mom.