Sad Times

I know this whole, "my family is so insane" thing is probably getting old, but my family is SO insane.  This week has been horrid.  So much so that even work told me to take a few days off and deal.  I was fine - composed and everything, but when they heard what was going even the workaholic law firm was like "man, sounds like you need a few days off."

My uncle was found dead in his apartment.  Which was awful.  I was shaking and terrified when it happened - had to call his daughters.  Had to call the coroner.  Had to call the funeral home.  Had to tell my mother her only living sibling was no longer living.

The next day my younger brother and I went over to his apartment and cleaned up the blood off the floor.  He'd fallen.  We didn't know why.  His glasses were lying on the ground soaked in blood.  We didn't know if it caused his death.  A drink was sitting, unfinished on the ledge.

Thankfully the coroner called me and confirmed it was a massive heart attack and not the fall that killed him.  Why does that make it better?  I don't know. Maybe it seems more inevitable and therefore less tragic?

Then there was the funeral home debacle.  My cousin say there gleefully picking out flowers, urns and music and then, when presented with the bill, announced she had no money.  Which we knew and it was fine - we (our side of the family, not me personally) always intended to pay.  We offered, and she just nodded and kept on talking.  No "Gee thanks for shelling out $7000.  I'll get ya back later when I inherit part of his estate..."  ARGH!   We'll present the bill when the estate is administered, but still... ARGH!

This probably doesn't sound that bad itself isn't so bad if you don't know how evil she is.

 But this might illustrate it.  

By way of background, she can't keep a job for more than a week, and has borrowed or mooched thousands from my deceased uncle and aunt, none of which they ever saw again.  So tonight I got a Facebook message from my uncle's best friend, the man who called me crying Tuesday to tell me what happened, the man who found him, who is in a very vulnerable place right now.  Also by way of background, this guy has NO money to spare.  He and my uncle work blue collar jobs and live pay cheque to pay cheque, socking away what they can here and there.  The friend tells me evil cousin has asked him to come over and take some of my uncle's things.  Part of me thinks, "Hm... has she cleared this with her sisters?"  But I decided to not get involved.  Then I get another message from him saying that my cousin is claiming she cannot pay her rent and wants to borrow money from him!!!  And what should he do, because really he doesn't have any money but he wants to help her?  So the plan to "give" him some of my uncle's things was really just a way to lure him over and ask for dough!  I am SOOOOOO furious with her I can barely speak.  I called him to say that if he loans her money, he should be aware he will never see a penny of it again.

I am so furious.  And I'm furious that instead of just being allowed to grieve for my uncle, a man who I was very close to, I am having to deal with this crap.

Sleepless Nights

Sleeping is not generally something I have a problem with.  But I've had lots of sleepless nights recently.  My uncle was found dead in his apartment yesterday.  I got a call from a friend who had been told by the friend who found them, and then had the lovely task of calling his daughters, attempting to figure out what to do with his pets, calling my mother (his sister), dashing across town to talk to police and then just starting to process it all.

Now I'm just lying in bed dreading going over there tomorrow, wondering what I'll find, and feeling so incredibly sad.  C'mon universe, I know you can do better than this.

Time Off

This was the first weekend in a while that I haven't had to work at all, and it's amazing how much more refreshed I am. I hate having to spend naptime madly looking into builder's liens matters or drafting memo on bankruptcy law (a growth industry, for sure).

A few fun things have happened on the workfront. First, I had my first hearing on my own - like a mini-trial. Yep, got to cross-examine and everything. Now this was a tribunal hearing, so it was a little less low-key than an actual court case, but it was still an amazing experience.

Second, I thought I messed up at work and had a horrible sleepless night about it; the next day I talked to a partner about it and he was SO nice and reassuring. I was like "I think I may have messed up..." and he said "I doubt that". Then when I explained what happened, he was all "it's so not a big deal" (I'm paraphrasing that second part.) So it was nice to feel.

Anyway LM wakes so I must run.

More Details

I have thought about that last post a bunch of times and debated taking it down, because it's really not my secret to share. But after nearly erasing it a couple of times, I've decided that the likelihood of anyone who knew my aunt stumbling across this blog and piecing together that it was her is slim to none.

I did some inquiring with the one person who I thought would know - just hinting and testing the waters. I guess I'm transparent because she verified that yes, 40 years ago my aunt put a child up for adoption. She got pregnant and was shipped off by her parents to one of those homes for unwed mothers. Her child, a boy, was born and sent out for adoption. Only one or two people in this whole world know about it, although I have widened that by telling my brother (and, I guess, you.)

It's shaken me pretty profoundly for several reasons. First, how could our family keep such a secret? We're so bland. I never in a million years would have guessed that she was hiding something like that. I think of my pregnancy and talking it over with her and getting her to feel the kicks, and never realising that she had been through that herself too. I think of her holding LM, I think of talking to her about the man she loved, her inability to have children - I can't believe it never once came up. She wasn't exactly one to keep secrets - she talked so openly about everything. Either she was extremely ashamed or harboured a lot of sadness about it.

Second, how on earth could my grandparents have done that to her? It makes me very angry with them. They were perfectly well-off and certainly could have supported her. The thought of being sent somewhere to be pregnant and give birth alone, and then to have your baby taken away, well, it fills me with sadness. To think my grandparents were so embarrassed by it that they hid it. It's gross. I wasn't there and don't know the details of how it was arranged, but the whole idea makes me feel sick.

Yet it explains so many things... she didn't exactly have the happiest life and I can't help but wonder if this wasn't part of the reason why.

And of course, it makes me sad that this child will never get the chance to meet her and she will never meet him. Apparently she did put her name on a registry, or try to contact him a couple of times, but nothing ever came of it. Maybe he didn't want to meet her - I know not everyone does. I'm probably being slightly dishonest in feeling sad for him - I also feel sad for me. It's selfish, but I would like to meet him. Somehow I don't think that will ever happen.

Skeletons

Had a pretty shocking day today. Was over at my aunt's today going through her papers to find out all the things I need to take care of, and I found a crumpled old letter. Actually, D found it. He was like "Who's JW?" And I said "I have no idea."

In my aunt's handwriting the envelope was marked "Details of [JW], born Jan [x], 1968." The letter was addressed to her and postmarked 1987. Inside was a typewritten commentary that looked older than '87. It took me a few moments to process, the letter had headings like "Details of the adoptive mother" and "Details of the adoptive father" finally "Details of the adoptee." The adoptee was JW, whose last name at birth was the same as my aunt's, and who was apparently was a "very happy baby" who slept through the night from 5 weeks on, and was sitting up very well by six months. JW had (has?) blue eyes and blonde hair. The letter said the adoptive parents believed the most important thing for a child is a loving home and they believed in letting a child chose his own religion, although they themselves were Protestant. They lived in a three bedroom home close to modern amenities, including shopping. There was so very little on that page, and yet so much.

In 1968 my aunt was barely out of her teens. In 1987, the date of the postmark, the 'baby' would have been 18 or 19, so about the age one would perhaps attempt to contact an adoption agency to get info on such a child. My aunt had a hysterectomy in her mid 20s and never had her own children, or so I was told.

I can think of no other explanation than the obvious - my aunt gave up a child for adoption. I have so many questions but I don't know that there are any answers. I have no idea what to do with this information, if anything, or who knows it. This being an executor is some heavy, heavy stuff.

La la la la life goes on

Looks like this crappy pay cut of D's is going to happen - there's been some push back but all in all it seems sort of inevitable given the financial straits the company is in. It does not leave me with a happy feeling, particularly when he had to go to work tonight and plans to be there all weekend. How's that for motivation - work more, get paid less. Yahoo.

There were layoffs at my office too. Not lawyers, but support staff. Really nice people too - makes me very sad. Good time to be doing employment-related law - more and more of that is across my desk every day.

Oh well - I can't worry about things too much.

Little Man is loads of fun these days - I love getting little message at my work where he says "Hi!" and then "Mummy" and then "ba ba ba." He has these tiny little plastic animals purchased by Grandma and he makes them walk and climb chairs and yowl out their little animal sounds. Also they get and give lots of kisses with big smacking noises. His cat sound is the best as it's sort of an pained meow - no doubt prompted by the reaction he gets from his own cat who constantly rebukes him when he gets too friendly (as he inevitably does).

He wants to do everything we do - put on headphones, talk on the phone, use a fork and spoon, tap on the computer, flip through books or whatever. Everything except walk that is - every now and then he'll psych us out and stand up and lurch forward two or three steps only to sit with a grin.

Life is good.

In other news I am irritated that Blogger won't let me use any of its fun features or new templates just because I am self-hosted. I want a tag cloud and I don't want to do have do a tonne of coding to get it.

Recession Diet

I was just at a child's birthday party. Of the 12 or so grown-ups in attendance, two of them have been laid off in the past month. D's employer announced last week that they were laying off people and wanted everyone else to take a "voluntary" 10% pay cut. And yeah, forcing someone into a pay cut is totally against the law, but suing your boss is sort of a career limiting move, and not too many people can afford to be career-limiting in this economy.

D is already itching to leave and do an MBA. So there's a very real possibility that I have to become the primary breadwinner, which will be a major shift for us. Right now I make the same amount I did 8 years ago - less in fact. When I'm a bona fide lawyer in a couple of months, that will go up (thank god!) but it still won't be near what D makes now. So we have some lifestyle adjustments to make.

Anyway I think I need to go on a recession diet. Gone is the spending $150 on a sweater, or spending $4.00 on an organic smoothie to go with my $8.00 sandwich. It's time to hunker down and stop the spending. Food (within limits), mortgage, daycare, home phone, cellphone (since I just signed a 3-year contract) - these are the fixed expenses. Everything else is discretionary. Internet - moving to lower speed. Turning the heat down. Cable - already gone. Groceries - no more expensive premade meals, or fancy snacks. Lunches - going to bring my own at least three times a week. Morning latte - nope. Weekly Sunday brunch at our favourite resto - moving to biweekly, and no fancy side dishes. Garden - going to be growing our own produce.

I am not a budgeter; I am not one to worry about money. I always have the attitude that something will work out and I'm a complete impulse buyer. I don't think my personality is fundamentally going to shift - and frankly worrying about money is not going to help. But I think a sensible set of rules and restrictions might make the next couple of years a lot happier for us. I want D to be satisfied and fulfilled and he isn't getting that right now. We don't need him to keep making what he does now. But we have gotten used to it, and change is always uncomfortable.

I'm curious - how are you finding ways to save money these days?