Wednesday 9 July 2014

Grief and heavy appliances

Day 127

I bought an air conditioner today because of an OMG heat wave and I thought it would be good for my allergies. There was nothing on the box that said it had to be installed in a window and I have never bought an air conditioner before. I hauled it home, hauled it upstairs, unpacked it, and then I discovered that it had to be installed in a window. It has to vent the hot air outside.

In some ways, I was reminded of what happened the day before the first anniversary of my father's death. A little early for Throwback Thursday, this is what I wrote on July 28, 2007:

I came home to a London's Drug flyer. Advertising countertop dishwashers. I have wanted one for a while. So I thought to myself that I would get one. Even though I'm planning on buying a condo, hopefully one with a built-in, or room for a built-in. I wanted a dishwasher.

I got up this morning and sprayed Raid on some ants on my living room carpet. Then I used the SpotBot to clean up. I played LOTRO (Lord of the Rings Online). I went to Wal-Mart first for comparison shopping. They don't have any.

It was hot. The whole day has been hot. The whole week has has been hot.

My inner voice questioned whether I really wanted to do this. Was this a way of not thinking about July 28, 2006? The day my father was removed from life support? The day I thought he would die, not knowing it would take him 18 hours to die?

I went to London Drugs and picked out the dishwasher. First I had to go to the camera section to get someone to come out with a cart to get it. Then we went to the cashier.

My Mastercard, the one with a $3,000 increase in my credit limit, popped up "Call for authorization". The cashier was flummoxed. She called someone. The someone said to ask me if I have another card, because otherwise I'll probably have to call Mastercard and it will take about 10 minutes. I do not have another card - well, a Sears card, but London Drugs does not take those.

My inner voice asked if I really wanted to buy a dishwasher. I have no clean spoons. I wanted a dishwasher.

The cashier called Mastercard - first she had to find their merchant number. Then she didn't know the actual physical address of the store that she works in. While she was waiting for the stock clerk to find it, I pointed out that it is printed on a sticker on her phone.

Mastercard said I had to call. They pointed me to a phone - which does not permit long-distance calls, not even 1-800 numbers. I used my cell phone.

I've been using my card more than usual. Well duh. You gave me an increase in my credit limit. Yes, the charge yesterday at Michael's was a purchase that I made. And the online fee to LOTRO. And iTunes purchases ($1!) We went through my last ten purchases. And then my purchase was approved. I do appreciate that Mastercard wanted to make sure my card wasn't stolen or compromised. I do.

The dishwasher wouldn't fit in my trunk. The stock clerk went and got someone to help her load it into the back seat.

It was very very hot by then. I drove home, struggled with the box up the five stairs to the apartment building door (and Lightly Swarthy Guy held the door. Didn't offer to help with the heavy box. Pig). I struggled to get into my apartment. I cleaned off a counter, struggled to get the dishwasher out of the box and onto the counter. I dug out the instructions and doodads.

The stupid thing doesn't work with my faucet. I dismantled the spray nozzle to see if it would fit. No.

The sweat was pouring off my face as I tried to Make It Work. My inner voice said I should have a cool drink and go play some LOTRO. So I did.

I did and I didn't want to go see my father as he lay dying. I was very squicked out at the thought of seeing him. But there was an amends I had forgotten to make the night before, when I thought I was seeing him for the last time. So I went. And I gave him my amends. I don't know if he heard. He was on morphine. And his body was fighting for life. His body was making horrible sucking sounds. On July 28, 2006, I was supposed to be in Calgary. Registering for the Weekend to End Breast Cancer, an event I'd trained for and raised $2,000 for. I wasn't supposed to be standing in the ICU at the Dr Everett Chalmers Hospital in Fredericton. Watching my father's body struggle.

I decided to see if there was an attachment I could buy, to make the dishwasher work with the faucet. I took a picture of the faucet. I put the doohickey from the dishwasher in my purse. I went to Home Depot. The clerks told me I needed to buy a wrench and remove the bottom part of the faucet.

I rent. I had looked at that bottom part of the faucet, and it looks like someone glued it in there. I went and looked at the wrenches anyways. The cheapest is $39.

I realized then, that I was trying very hard to pound a square peg into a round hole. I started to tear up, so I got the heck out of Home Depot and went home. And had more cool liquids and played more LOTRO.

It's going to be a pain in the ass to put that dishwasher back in the box, take it to my car, and take it back to London Drugs, but it has to be done. Maybe I'll borrow Amy's boyfriend for that. Their house is a mess, so he can't say anything about the state of my place.

I was thinking of going to Johnston Canyon tomorrow. My inner voice says I can drive all over Alberta if I want, but I can't hide from the fact that tomorrow marks the first anniversary of my father's death. So I have no idea of what I'm really going to do.

Seven years later, I know better than to try to Make It Work. The windows in my bedroom are casement style and it would cost a lot to seal in the air conditioner. I don't feel it's worth the bother to install it in the office, a room that doesn't need an air conditioner. I'm returning it tomorrow morning when it will be cooler.

1 comment:

  1. During the weeks before the anniversary of my son's death and my father's death I lose track of what day it is as if avoiding acknowledging the upcoming date will somehow release me from the emotions and pain of the process. Some years I let it sneak up with out much fanfare thinking I'm juggling things just fine. Then BAM. I realize I'm kidding myself. Grief takes it's toll. Whether you choose to distract yourself or pretend you don't realize the date, at some point the toll must be paid. It's been 10 years since Elliot was killed - I still haven't quite figured out how to juggle the whole mess of sorrow, pain and remembrance. I remember reading about the dishwasher (of despair) and sending my best thoughts to you as I do now.

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