parental unit maintenance…

… continues to be a major worry of mine.

parental unit in question mentions, as a passing comment last night during a check on her, that she hasn’t been able to pay the phone bill for three months and she thinks they’ll probably turn it off during the first week of May.

oh, dear.

so I spend a sleepless night sending emails to Bell Canada asking if I can pay her bill via a credit card and fire off an emerg email to da sister. Sister responds that they can try to pay the bill at local Bell Phonecenter. We Paypal the money – many thanks to Associated Content for paying me promptly and lessening the sting, but it’s still a bit o’cash in da hole as it were.
Sister writes back to say that BellCanada in their wisdom ONLY takes money orders and personal checks – but her hubby is prepared to go down to parental unit home and give her the cash so that she can go to the bank and pay it and get it into the system faster. I only pray that she actually PAYS the bill instead of spending the money.

I am truly at my wits end on what to do about her. Sweet woman, but at 62 she’s not able to find work and, to be brutally honest, isn’t able to do much anyway. She blathered that she’d like to move back to Toronto and get work there, secure in her ability to harass the agencies into getting her some work, but I don’t honestly know… and do I want to imagine how impossible it’ll be for her to move back down to the city? As it stands she’s about to run right into a bad reality check when her unemployment insurance runs out at the end of the month and her pension is about HALF of what the landlord (who is grossly overcharging, considering she has only a hotplate and a frelling microwave/toaster oven and no kitchen to speak of…) will be wanting.

*sighs*

they never tell you about this in school, do they…

😦

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12 thoughts on “parental unit maintenance…

  1. I don’t know what it is about parents and not telling you about problems until months later. Maybe it’s a pride thing. My mom did that all the time with serious health problems. Drove me nuts.
    {{{hugs}}}

  2. I don’t know what it is about parents and not telling you about problems until months later. Maybe it’s a pride thing. My mom did that all the time with serious health problems. Drove me nuts.
    {{{hugs}}}

  3. “they never tell you about this in school, do they…”
    Indeed they don’t. 😦
    My Mom would rather just about anything than ask for help, but she is facing the possibility of two root canals, and Medicare doesn’t kick in for a few months yet. I may just go to the bank and deposit the money without bringing it up; that way she can’t argue about it.
    Definitely a pride thing. The thought of being a “burden” or something equally ridiculous horrifies her. And of course she doesn’t listen when I try to explain that we’re happy to help out.
    David says that at least he knows I come by my stubborn streak honestly.

    • it’s a catch-22 mentally as well – the Wookie throws fits when I explain I feel guilty buying even a single book when my mother may have trouble paying the rent or buying food.
      I’d say it was Catholic guilt, but that’s too easy… *chuckles*
      two root canals, tho… *shivers* I just barely got over my fear of the dentist with all the work I had to do within the last year, courtesy of a single filling falling out and discovering that sitting back for ten years without a visit does entail some actual replacement work on some bad fillings.
      as it is, the sister unit is putting in a check for the phone today and I’m waiting back on an email to Bell Canada to try and take the monthly bill under my wing. May be a bit of maneuvering since it’s Canuck bill vs US payment, but at least I won’t have to worry about her not having a phone.
      sad thing was when I was telling her last night she was almost numb. I think she’s at the point where she just can’t understand why she can’t get a job at the local donut shop after all these years of working – and I can’t say that I wouldn’t be depressed myself in that situation.
      and, of course, she can’t live with us due to the two countries and all… well, for six months and then she has to go back to the Great White North – but that’d solve nothing other than strain the marriage.
      bah.
      where’s my chai?

      • ::hands you a cup of chai::
        That sucks. We’re already planning for my mother to move in with us when/if she should reach the point that she can’t take care of herself or the house anymore. Although I can’t imagine her admitting it if it did become too much. ::sigh::
        We’re looking at house plans now, and one of the things we’ve decided is that there must be a downstairs bedroom, just in case a) mom does move in and can’t manage stairs anymore or b) we can’t manage stairs anymore when we get older.

      • I hear your pain… see, my sister and myself went through this to a degree when my grandfather was terminal and living at home – we both moved in to lighten the burden, as it was – took quite a few years off both our lives and, in fact, pretty well mangled us both in retrospect. He died at home, peacefully, on my 25th birthday. The family disintergrated after that, fighting over the money and whatnot. My grandmother died just about two years ago in a nursing home, regretting every minute she had spent giving money away to family who didn’t use it to help her, but to help themselves.
        My sister and I, of course, got cut out.
        😛
        Stairs, now… ack. My Mother-in-Law (who has almost acknowledged my existence after ten years of association and five of marriage) is having her SECOND knee replacement surgery this Friday. On my birthday, so there’s some sort of evil synchronicity at work yet again.
        Heck, some days *I* can’t make it up and down the frelling stairs to do the laundry.
        😛
        and I’m only hitting 41 this week.
        ptthhtbbt!

  4. “they never tell you about this in school, do they…”
    Indeed they don’t. 😦
    My Mom would rather just about anything than ask for help, but she is facing the possibility of two root canals, and Medicare doesn’t kick in for a few months yet. I may just go to the bank and deposit the money without bringing it up; that way she can’t argue about it.
    Definitely a pride thing. The thought of being a “burden” or something equally ridiculous horrifies her. And of course she doesn’t listen when I try to explain that we’re happy to help out.
    David says that at least he knows I come by my stubborn streak honestly.

    • it’s a catch-22 mentally as well – the Wookie throws fits when I explain I feel guilty buying even a single book when my mother may have trouble paying the rent or buying food.
      I’d say it was Catholic guilt, but that’s too easy… *chuckles*
      two root canals, tho… *shivers* I just barely got over my fear of the dentist with all the work I had to do within the last year, courtesy of a single filling falling out and discovering that sitting back for ten years without a visit does entail some actual replacement work on some bad fillings.
      as it is, the sister unit is putting in a check for the phone today and I’m waiting back on an email to Bell Canada to try and take the monthly bill under my wing. May be a bit of maneuvering since it’s Canuck bill vs US payment, but at least I won’t have to worry about her not having a phone.
      sad thing was when I was telling her last night she was almost numb. I think she’s at the point where she just can’t understand why she can’t get a job at the local donut shop after all these years of working – and I can’t say that I wouldn’t be depressed myself in that situation.
      and, of course, she can’t live with us due to the two countries and all… well, for six months and then she has to go back to the Great White North – but that’d solve nothing other than strain the marriage.
      bah.
      where’s my chai?

      • ::hands you a cup of chai::
        That sucks. We’re already planning for my mother to move in with us when/if she should reach the point that she can’t take care of herself or the house anymore. Although I can’t imagine her admitting it if it did become too much. ::sigh::
        We’re looking at house plans now, and one of the things we’ve decided is that there must be a downstairs bedroom, just in case a) mom does move in and can’t manage stairs anymore or b) we can’t manage stairs anymore when we get older.

      • I hear your pain… see, my sister and myself went through this to a degree when my grandfather was terminal and living at home – we both moved in to lighten the burden, as it was – took quite a few years off both our lives and, in fact, pretty well mangled us both in retrospect. He died at home, peacefully, on my 25th birthday. The family disintergrated after that, fighting over the money and whatnot. My grandmother died just about two years ago in a nursing home, regretting every minute she had spent giving money away to family who didn’t use it to help her, but to help themselves.
        My sister and I, of course, got cut out.
        😛
        Stairs, now… ack. My Mother-in-Law (who has almost acknowledged my existence after ten years of association and five of marriage) is having her SECOND knee replacement surgery this Friday. On my birthday, so there’s some sort of evil synchronicity at work yet again.
        Heck, some days *I* can’t make it up and down the frelling stairs to do the laundry.
        😛
        and I’m only hitting 41 this week.
        ptthhtbbt!

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