Bloody hell, it’s been a year for Lisa. Mother was hale and hearty when she came over. She went into hospital on the first of January and never came out. Dead in February.
Dad was in a terrible state, skin and bones, slowly starving to death because his nerves were so bad that he couldn’t swallow food. He spent 4 years getting all of his calories from one drink of protein powder a day and beer. And that was it. As soon as Lisa and I left him to come home he was falling over and was unable to right himself. Lisa managed to find a care home for him. He finally admitted he was incapable of looking after himself and was willing to go into the home. He’s been in there less than a week and he’s died this morning.
Lisa still hasn’t finished finalising mother’s bank account and pensions, now this. It’s the last flight of the season from Manchester to the nearest airport (Burgas) on Friday so she looked stuck, but Luton keeps flying to Burgas all year by the look of it, so I’m running her and Patrick to Luton a week Sunday. She’s got to finalise mother’s account and transfer it to dad’s account then inform that bank that dad is dead and have it transferred to her account. Then arrange someone to value the house and put it on the market. All while she’s grieving, poor sausage. I offered to go with her, but there’s nothing I can actually add to the proceedings.
I sacked that job off. It was ridiculous. I’ve applied for a ton of jobs. One is looking promising. Van driver. I said I didn’t want to do van driving as it’s stupid amount of drops per day, but the agency guy (they never lie *sarcasm*) said this gig is 6 to 9 drops a day. Worth trying out at least.