Closure

One step closer to closure. The house is sold and today escrow closed. She would have been so happy to know a single young guy is moving in, a man who works at the refinery, so likely a hard-working guy with dreams for this house. Does he know how proud she was to be a homeowner?

That a widow of over 35 years, left with five children to raise, could successfully own a home was a source of great accomplishment for her.

She would be proud that she left no debt behind besides what she owed on that house. This, too, was a huge accomplishment, given the years of overwhelming sacrifice, credit card debt, and struggles to stay afloat.

She would be proud that my sisters and I have made it through this part of The Estate without losing our way with each other. The civility, support, and love that we have shared through this four month part of the journey is a miracle.

She would be very happy to know that the “residual” is enough to allow us to do something special for our families. It isn’t life-changing money, but it will be a blessing to the four of us, though we would all rather have our mom.

It seems ironic that we closed on Valentines Day. This would have been the day when she would have gotten corny cards, marshmallow filled heart candies, and maybe flowers. She always loved the idea of the giant heart-shaped box. One year she bought my kids those chocolate lips that made her laugh. Instead, this year, we mourn our loss and still struggle with the reality of it all.

She would be mad about all the snow, the branches of her giant pine trees touching the ground. It’s been a long, hard week getting everything done and trying to make it to work, meeting the deadlines, getting paperwork to the right place, getting delayed by the storms.

So, blessings on the guy who has taken on a new project. Blessings on my sisters for powering through one of the most trying experiences of our lives. Blessings on Casa Brothers, the amazing guys who helped with The Estate Sale, listing and selling and closing. It has been miraculous all around. Still another month before the estate closes officially. I miss my mom. She would be proud.


Copyright 2019 – Belinda Botzong

Going Dry

The years of prohibition started far before the Roaring Twenties

Currently I am working on the decade starting with 1910. I like to skip around so this could change next week. We all think of 1920s as being the time of prohibition. The “Roaring Twenties” are well depicted in movies and documentaries. However the movement started well before that. Today I will share an article from January of 1910 about the division in Skagit County on the “temperance movement” and the choice for each community to be “dry” or “wet”.

Bellingham Herald and Seattle Daily Times

Bellingham Herald- Jan 1 – Skagit County, Outside of Incorporated Towns, Goes dry by a 500 majority.  La Conner banishes saloons while three cities vote to retain the bars.  Two precincts in the County give big majorities for booze:  Edison and McMurray Vote Wet – Other small towns go dry.  

Seattle Daily times:  There are three great elements that have produced the “dry” movement- the organized temperance forces, the doctors, and the employers of labor.  The temperance people have been the moral force, the doctors the scientific, and the employers the economic.  The result is a dry belt which is a thing absolutely now in history.  Perhaps some people can remember smiling sadly at the spectacle of the little round faced boys of the Loyal Legion bravely marching at some WCTU entertainment under a big banner inscribed “Tremble.  King Alcohol.  We shall grow up”.  Well, North Carolina gave sixty thousand majority against prohibition in 1881.  In 1908 she gave a 44 thousand majority for it.  The boys have grown up.  

The movement against intoxicants has changed its name three times.  First it was “temperance” then “prohibition” and now comes the new word “Antisaloon”.  It exactly represents the present phases of the movement.  It is no longer dealing with individuals, whether children of drunkards.  It is voting to exterminate the saloon and in this movement great numbers of moderate drinkers must have joined.  It is not possible to believe that some of the majorities in the dry territory were composed entirely of total abstainers.  This is a curious and significant fact.  No moderate drinker joins a temperance society or the prohibition party.  Only total abstainers entered these.  But there must be thousands, perhaps millions, of moderate drinkers in the Antisaloon movement.  They are not tee-totalers, but they are antisaloonists. 


Belindabotzong2019©

Junk Mail

Her mail comes to my house now

I thought that would mean I get the bills

Apparently the junk mail is included

She didn’t think it was junk mail though. She loved her catalogs.

When I went to see her – or anyone who came through the door, the first task before entering the house was checking the mail.

The mailbox is across the street so she was afraid to go in case she had a seizure or fell. God forbid she take her walker.

On my way in with the pile I often just stopped at the recycling bin and tossed her junk mail in to keep her from spending too much on the strawberry fairies (for me because I have a strawberry theme), the colorful skirts with watercolor pencils (for my daughter the artist) or for any number of household amazing items you can’t possibly imagine.

Sometimes she placed orders on the phone then made one of the grandkids go get money orders to pay for it so I wouldn’t know.

Only I did.

Sometimes she said “go on that button pushing thing and order these,” meaning go online. Whoever got the shotgun shaped plungers for their toilets, I’m sorry.

Then all the requests for donations. Oh my goodness. She would put the requests for money to Israel, starving children, paralyzed veterans and homeless. I would tell her she is going to be starving and homeless if she sent money to all those people.

God sees her heart. He knows she is more generous than what he has blessed her with. She always told him (me, everyone) she just needed more money. There’s so much to buy! I just wanna be rich.

They say money can’t buy happiness but I’m pretty sure she would have been happy being rich and buying everything in those catalogs and giving thousands to those charities.

I gave up telling her to stop buying junk for us. It made her happy. I paid her bills. It’s only money. Every now and then I let her donate.

So the junk mail has been trickling in over the past three months. Then yesterday ..

Oh my. So hard to resist those free shipping offers. The sales. The abundance.

Recycled.

©Belindabotzong2019 g

Three Months Later

Three months and nine days have passed by like a vapor. I only cry in unexpected moments now. I still almost call her, which maybe she would like to know since she said I never call her. But I did.

The house has sold and is moving through the closing process. I went to get a few plants and a chair from her house last Friday and decided I don’t want to go back again. She’s not there. When I come in the door my hands are empty. Before they were full of groceries or errands and I always had to pee after driving down to see her. And all the time I’m in the bathroom she’d be chatting away. And then first thing – “fix my hair” would be her first request. But not this time. No TV blaring. No chatter. No hairbrush and VO5. Just silent echoes.

I dropped off one of her yard ornaments for a lady who had done some yard work last summer. She had also sat with my mom and did her dishes when I was out of town and needed someone to be there with her broken arm. This lady I’ve never met asked for a memento so I gave her a rooster. She put it in her “Momorial” garden – the place she made to honor her mom and now mine. That blesses my heart immensely. Praise God.

Praise God for a buyer. Praise God I know she’s not hurting anymore. Praise God for giving me a mom who loved me so much. And that makes me cry.

©Belindabotzong2019

Personality

Ever taken a personality test? My adult children are very interested, maybe obsessed, with figuring out their personality type and the meanings of the tests. So, for the umpteenth time I took a personality test online the other day at https://www.16personalities.com/free-personality-test. I have taken these in management classes, in psychology classes, and just for fun with almost always the same result – I think INFJ was my common result. I was surprised to find that not only had my “personality” changed (https://www.16personalities.com/isfp-personality), but that the results came out with the title “Everyone is an Artist but not everyone knows it”, and the description was spot on, like they knew me!

So now I have everyone at work taking it and it’s really fun to see people start thinking about how their personality is, how different personalities interact, and how some are more compatible than others.

I think in the past I was always striving to give the “right” answers rather than the “true” answers. Now that I’m older, have had two children, have gone through many years of marriage (32!) and have watched my child struggle with mental illness, watched my mom struggle with poor health and aging, and all the other things the Lord has walked with me through, it makes sense that my answers would change. Watching suffering makes you more empathetic. Watching processes, daily struggles, and allowing those experiences to shape you changes your perspective.

I encourage you to go online and take the test. The results may stimulate your self-awareness, explain what others see in you, or help you grow. One of the employees I totally did not expect to take the test – truthfully I took it as if I was him today and ended up with the exact description of him. But when he later took it himself it was totally different than the result he got. So is it his self-perception or my observation of him that is off? I know he should know himself better than I do, but don’t we see ourselves and others so differently? His answers would indicate he is an entrepreneur! That would be awesome. How much of our lives is a result of choices we made that went against our “personality”.

When I was in high school I took the SAT, like most people, and you know when the guidance counselors “guide” you based on those results, I was always told I would be an accountant. I even started out studying accounting because it was what I was “supposed” to do- it came easily, I was good at it, but I certainly am not an accountant (thank goodness!!). My son-in-law became a lawyer – graduated- discovered he hated the idea of being a lawyer. He would, in fact, be miserable as a lawyer! He is sweet and kind and soft-hearted! Now he is a dentist! What if he would have just decided to pursue the legal field? He would not be able to be a lawyer! He is from Brazil… how would he possibly practice law in America? But, he can be a dentist, and he will be a wonderful, caring, compassionate dentist once he gets through the immigration nightmare (total other topic).

So much of life is wasted not knowing who we really are. Or maybe not wasted. Because how do you learn who you really are until you have gone through the battles, struggles, and failures? These indeed shape your personality. We may stay introverted or extroverted – I am pretty sure that isn’t a usual change, but our intuition, sensing, individual-ness comes through life experience – having children or losing them, walking through storms with others, and all the crazy stuff life throws at us.

Get to know yourself! Get to know your spouse and children in a whole new way! Take a personality test and comment here to let me know if the results surprised you, enlightened you, or motivated you in any way!

belindabotzong2019

Website Refind

I have done a makeover of my website in preparation for months ahead — lots of stories to tell in my upcoming posts — the history, hardships, victories, and everyday lives of our beautiful area in the Pacific Northwest. Starting in 1898 and going through two world wars, I plan to share real life fictionalized into short stories. Reading between the lines of news articles, census records, memoirs, and love letters, I will give readers a taste of the early 20th century where ordinary people lived through extraordinary times. Yet the human experience doesn’t change – growing up, love, loss, grief, joy– only our circumstances change. I look forward to getting feedback, sharing your own knowledge of history and life, and eventually a published novel is the goal!

Rainy Day Happiness

It’s what most would describe as a dreary, drizzly, cold northwest day. I say praise and glory to God for such days. It soothes my soul like nothing else to see the bay blanketed in low-lying sky that makes the world monochrome shades of silver and gray.

To get off work early, drive along the waterfront, find a parking spot and run into the art market for a quick inventory check is happiness. To hear someone was just there asking to see me was pure joy. To sit in my favorite new cafe where everything on the menu is tasty AND healthy is blessed.

Planning to spend this dreary afternoon immersed in creating my next design, wearing my baggy shirt and glue pants – picking the next flower petal to place in just the right spot.. ah what blissfulness. To plan a weekend of reorganizing my space and installing new storage bins– oh my what a glorious time of year!

©Belindabotzong2018

Eating Out Memorial

I saw an ad for a new pizza place today and my immediate, fleeting thought was that we would go try it out. Only we can’t.

Most Saturdays for the past few years involved going out to lunch somewhere with my mom. When we first started the routine of course we didn’t know it would be our routine. It was sporadic st first. She wasn’t one for anything fancy to eat. Often it was a cafe she’d worked at eons ago or something simple like Red Robin. She wasn’t adventurous in eating and of course no food was as good as her own.

She’d get on kicks and we’d repeat the same place or same meal for weeks in a row before we moved on to the next great thing. For awhile it was artichoke dip. Always prawns or shrimp. Sometimes the roast beef open face plate. Then pizza. Then Thai. Then you never knew. She’d love it or despise it. She told us about a commercial for coconut lobster at a certain restaurant and we took her. They denied such a thing existed on their menu and she insisted — she saw the commercial a thousand times and coconut lobster was her destiny. We were at a loss and the waitress was so rude it added to the dismay of no coconut lobster! Much later we found it was at a different restaurant that we don’t have here. So funny!

When she was right there was no arguing the point!

A few months ago we took her out to a nice restaurant and she was so mad. She wanted to go to the other one down the street. She complained the whole time. She was rude. She was disgruntled. Halibut with crab Hollandaise. Too fancy. Not enough crab. Oh my gosh! I said it’s the last time we all go out together. It was.

When we were little we were quite poor. Going out to eat was unusual for us. The very few times we did were so exciting. There was a place called the Princess. My parents had gotten their disabled veterans benefits instated and suddenly a splurge.. we ate at the Princess. I was very young so not sure what we had but it was so exciting it didn’t matter.

Once we had to travel to a wedding. We got to have breakfast at a restaurant- hot chocolate! Sticks in my mind as a novelty at the time.

As we got older of course ordering pizza became a thing. Going to McDonald’s after church became a routine. Or driving to Bellingham to Dickinson’s family buffet was our most favorite adventure in eating out.

And now it’s a common everyday thing. We travel around the world eating all kinds of things my mom would hate and going out to dinner or lunch is an everyday occurrence. And now she is gone. Two months. And the two months before that we couldn’t go out but I brought her whatever she wanted. Fish and Chips from Bobs. Ribs. Pizza. Corn Dogs from Hal’s. Egg Rolls from Asian1. And finally Fresh rolls from Little Thailand. And she died. And I miss her.

©Belindabotzong2018

A Twist of Corinthians

God is Love ❤️

Love is patient. God is Love. God is patient, let me be patient

Love is kind. God is Love. God is kind. Let me be kind

Love does not envy. God is Love. God does not envy. Let me be grateful

Love does not boast. God is Love. God does not boast. Let me give praise

Love is not proud. God is Love. God is not proud. Let me be humble.

Love does not dishonor others. God is Love. God does not dishonor others. Let me encourage others

Love is not selfish. God is Love. God is not self-seeking. Let me seek the best for others

Love is not easily angered. God is Love. God is not easily angered. Let me be joyful

God keeps no record of wrongs. Let me be forgiving

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. God is Love. God does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. Let my heart be pure

Love always protects. God is Love. God always protects. Let me be safe

Love always trusts. God is Love. God always trusts. Let me be faithful

Love always hopes. God is Love. God always hopes. Let me be hopeful

Love always perseveres. God is Love. God always perseveres. Let me be strong

Love never fails. God is Love. God never fails. Let me be successful

And now these three remain: faith, hope and Love. God is Love. God.

But the greatest of these is God. Let me give glory

‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭13

On The Market

Multiple Listing Service realtor agreement signed

Cleaning ladies did their best

Sisters worked like Hercules to clear the last of the “stuff” – remnants of a life

The listing posted and a bittersweet flood washed over me. As usual I have two roles in this whole business. On one hand I am called The Estate Manager- what used to be The Executor (feels like executioner) of The Estate. I have decisions to make. I have things to do. I have papers to sign and records to keep. I have rules to follow and jobs to finish. I am, as The Estate Manager, detached from my other role. The grieving daughter, the heir of the residue, the former caretaker/caregiver, of my first best friend.

There is no way to describe certain feeling and emotions except that it rolls like a tide- sometimes gently ebbing and flowing, a little misty maybe. Sometimes crashing like a tidal wave drowning my soul in tears.

This process is at times extremely frustrating. The waiting. The expectations. The bitterness. The disagreements. The pressure. The loss. The duties. The longing.

Yesterday was a day of frustration. I had to go to the bank for a couple things. There was the deposit from the estate sale. It wouldn’t go through without some glitch because it’s an estate account and it hadn’t been used yet. Then there was the mortgage payment. Fiasco. When I got frustrated and said “I just want to pay the damn mortgage”, the little fella told me not to use such language. Hahahahaha. Does he have any idea the language of this world? Not to excuse myself but in the past month I’ve had angry patients call me everything but a white woman (as my mother would say) as they, in their own distress, used profanity to cope with their own issues.

After much back and forth with the account I finally got the mortgage paid and left with a handshake with my new friend Ruan.

And then the realtor announced the listing on Redfin. And it washed over me. And I pray that a sweet family, a brilliant entrepreneur, or a group of people who just need a place to live, see that and decide it’s the perfect place for them. They can’t see the Chilean fire tree in bloom that will knock their socks off in spring. They don’t see the labor that went into the recent updates or the prior updates. They don’t see the pride she had at being a homeowner as a widow with five children. But I hope they see their future as being blessed by their own proud purchase and that they will fill it with their own collections and memories and tastes in decor.

I sent the Casa Brothers a message. They are the Realtor/Estate Sale team who have done such a great job through this ordeal. I have an idea for a new reality show with them as the stars — :

Hi guys

I just thought up a new reality show and you guys could be the stars— like property brothers except with the estate sale twist.. Casa Brothers – and the drama part would be the family melt downs and such that happens as people grieve and move thru the process of parents dying.

The vision is to my end — “save the adult children” from all the STUFF accumulated by the person who passed.

I think this is an idea that would resonate with this generation as all the baby boomers start passing and leaving the minimalist generation upcoming with all this stuff to dispose of.

I’m calling Hollywood .. get your makeup team together and get ready to be a star!!!!

Have a beautiful day
©Belindabotzong2018