You Can Never Go Home Again...

Okay, so maybe that's not true. But we may never go home again is pretty accurate. Or we will most likely never go home again except to attend more funerals. Which is just really fucking cheery to think but, honestly, probably true. 

So yeah, the trip home last weekend. 

It was a whirlwind trip. We flew in and flew out basically. It was interesting to view in a semi-detached way for sure. The last time we flew was a year ago. A few days after Ann died. At the very beginning of the pandemic. It was really uncomfortable. But that was a mix of the pandemic and being in shock. I mean flying home after Dad died was surreal and there was no pandemic. In fact in a way it was even weirder because nobody else seemed to understand that Dad was dead. They were just going on about their lives like nothing catastrophic had happened. At least when Ann died everyone was acting differently. More careful. More subdued. It seemed a bit like the world was in mourning with us. 

The airport at that time was pretty empty. Stores and restaurants were closed. Most everyone was in masks but it was still really new so it was weird to see everyone in masks. We owned like 4 total at the time and would wash out the mask we wore in the sink in the hotel room so it could dry to wear again. Switching back and forth. 

This time we grabbed a couple of masks from our vast collection, headed to the airport that was filled with people wearing masks. Stores are reopening, but the Portland airport is in the middle of big remodel so a lot are closed. We aren't sure if it's stores that didn't make it, stores that are still closed because they aren't sure about being able to maintain the distancing rules still in effect or if they are closed because of the remodel. But there was a mix of closed and open. And it wasn't weird seeing everyone in masks. It was weird seeing SO MANY PEOPLE. The flight to Albuquerque was full. Like "Please check your luggage" full. That was the weird thing now. 

The landing was rough. Like not metaphorically, but actually. Though we thought it also fit metaphorically. It was almost too much to take. My stomach was starting to really protest when we finally touched down. Just so bumpy. Kind of the reminder that Albuquerque is never easy. 

Speaking of...we had dinner with my family that night. I'm sort of kidding. It's always kind of a brace yourself thing because you never know. And now with Mom gone I wasn't really sure how it would be at all. It wasn't bad though. It was just my two middle siblings and two of my nephews. Very small contingent. I vetoed having a few other family members there just to avoid the fight that would be almost inevitable. It might not have been, but odds were that if you got me and my uncle together someone would say something at some point that wouldn't be fun. Just best to avoid it since we were only going to be there for a day. 

And it was our first (for Brent and I) venture out to an indoor restaurant. I think 6 spread out at a table was good enough. 

It was weird. Being in a restaurant. You put on your mask to come inside. You wear it to go to your table. Then you can take it off to eat and drink and visit while you sit at your table. Now, we are all vaccinated so there wasn't any real risk at all anyway, but after over a year of avoiding indoor spaces and wearing a mask constantly it was odd. 

But the meal went well. We got to see my oldest nephew for the first time since his weight loss surgery. Seeing the pictures online gave us a good idea as to how much he has lost, but it was nothing like actually seeing him. And hugging him. The last time I hugged him was at Mom's funeral. He had already lost 60 pounds at that point pre-surgery, but he was still big enough that I couldn't get my arms around him. Friday they overlapped. By a good amount. He's lost 210 pounds. Which is basically Brent. He's lost a 6 foot tall grown ass man. How crazy is that? And more importantly he looks so happy and seems so much lighter in his soul. It makes me so happy. 

My sister, brother and I talked a bit about growing up. It's always an interesting thing for me. You all know I read a lot about memories and how ours are all faulty. We think we know what happened but every time you remember something you change something in the memory. And you can actually tell yourself a false story often enough that you really believe it's true. Even if it's completely made up. It trips up people in public (See Brian Williams) and makes a big stir with people thinking "OH I would never! He's just a liar!" but we all do it. We all have our versions of what really happened. Sometimes they match and sometimes they are completely different stories. That being said sometimes listening to my sister talk about our childhoods I think I don't know any those people. I recognize the names of the characters but that's about it. I am sure she feels the same about me. 

But all in all it was a nice visit and nobody fought and nobody cried. Those are always wins. 

Getting to the hotel was a challenge. Which was the same when we were in town after Ann died. Last year downtown was cordoned off for the protests around George Floyd's murder. We literally could not get to the hotel. Every street was blocked. We ended up having to call them and move our reservation to a different hotel. This year we went to check in as they were closing down cross streets to prevent, cruising? street racing? fun? We weren't sure, but it was a trick, again, to get to the hotel. And though they had opened up restaurants and capacity they haven't yet opened valet parking, which had been the only way to park before, so we had another layer of finding parking and getting that taken care of. But we got checked in and then spent the night listening to cars and motorcycles racing on the street outside the hotel because it was one of the only ones still open. Yay...

Also we found that it was probably good we ended up in a different place last year. The times we had stayed at that hotel before we had a big room. Bed, couch semi-suite set up. This time we were in a regular room and it wasn't very big at all. Still a nice room, still one of the nicer places in Albuquerque to stay, but it would have been much harder to deal with for a week than the Embassy Suites was. Sometimes even in really crappy situations the world does you a solid. 

Saturday we went to take care of the business we were there for. Brent had checked and double checked that the bank had all of the information they needed so there wouldn't be any nasty surprises. And we went ahead and brought copies of everything anyway just to make sure. We got to the bank to open the safe deposit box and get all of the paper work out of it. It took a little bit to get the box open, for some reason the bank's keys (you need both yours and theirs to open the box) aren't labeled and you have to have both keys in in exactly the same way to get the lock to release and the guy from the bank must have gone through all of his keys 4 or 5 times. Enough that he was really starting to get flustered, which of course made it even more difficult. 

While Brent signed off on getting everything closed I sat and looked through the paperwork. To see if I was right about what was going to be in there. And I was. And I wasn't. I had guessed the original will, their marriage license, Jack's military paperwork, a copy of his death certificate and if she had a passport that as well. So their marriage license was in there as well as the military paperwork that I expected and a copy of his death certificate but, no will. I have no idea where the original certified copy of the will was. We are thinking that maybe they never had it certified. Or there is a lawyer somewhere who has it that we didn't even know about to contact. But all we ever had was our copy and the copy we found at her place that was just like our copy. 

There was also a lot more paperwork. We live in such a bureaucratic society and we don't even realize it until we lay out the "necessary paperwork." There were copies of the original marriage licenses and divorce decrees from the first time Jack and Ann were married, their second marriages to others and then like I mentioned the marriage certificate from when they remarried. That one was sweet to me because it has both of their signatures on it as well as mine and Brent's as we were their witnesses. I happened to be pregnant at the time so the whole of that side of the Mastenbrook family was represented.

She also had her complete vaccination records which I'm guessing she needed at times for her nursing license. All of Jack's paperwork from his last physical, which makes me think she requested that information to see if there had been any warning about his heart that was just ignored. And her birth certificate as well as Jack's and Brent's. Brent's was a surprise. We had to get an official copy at one point for his and there was a flash of annoyance that they had a copy and didn't just give it to us when he moved out. It's not the first time I've been annoyed at a dead person, and it won't be the last, but it's always an odd feeling when it happens. Spoiler alert, they don't care.

When we got home all of the contents of the box went into our "deal with it later" box in the garage. But at least now all of those pieces are done. 

Want to know the real kicker though? After a year of trying to get them to do it remotely so we didn't have to fly down for that one last piece. After a year of being told it was against their policy and that it had to be done in person. They never even asked Brent for his ID. 

Never.

Not when we got there. 

Not when we opened the box and cleared it out.

Not when he closed the account.

Never.

You just have to shake your head. Now we are sure it's because he had the keys and had been in contact with them and the odds of a stranger knowing the appointment time, getting the keys from us aren't great, but still. 

The appointment took about a half hour all together. And that was that. The last piece of the estate taken care of. And we were done. Ten in the morning with a flight that was leaving at 4. We had made plans to grab lunch with friends before heading to the airport but still had a few hours to fill. 

We drove around town a bit and sort of said goodbye. We found a few of the places we had lived as kids. Our old schools. Some friend's houses. A park we used to picnic in when we were still dating. We tried to find the first house we bought but they've reconfigured the roads in our old neighborhood so we couldn't quite figure out how to get there. But all in all it was a good trip down memory lane. Also reinforced where I got my idea of what a nice neighborhood, and a nice house look like. Four Hills was the rich neighborhood for Highland students. The houses up there aren't giant mansions or super crazy large, but they are bigger than the houses down in town and they are all a little different style. More brick ranch houses (though BIG ranch houses) fewer adobe homes. That to me was what rich people did. Build a house out of brick instead of mud so the wolf can't blow it down as easily I guess. For Brent his idea of a nice neighborhood was shaped by Kalamazoo. Wide tree lined streets and deep front yards. It's always interesting to see what has made itself at home in your brain and why. 

Then we headed to lunch with Nikki and Caren. It's always so good to see them face to face. Nikki was such a huge help to us last year. She had recently been through it all when her mother died. She was an incredible resource for information. We had no idea what to do or how to do it. Another thing we just don't talk about enough with people. What do you do when someone dies? Not just the grieving but the actual amount of STUFF that needs taken care of. When our fathers died it was easier because it all just went to our mothers. When my mother died there were a few things but she didn't own much and my brother and sister had lived with her and knew where everything was. When Ann died it was kind of chaos. There was a house and a car and the contents of the house and investments and Jack's death benefits and Social Security and two years of taxes to take care of and...well...It was really nice to have someone who knew the steps to take.  

And again, it's just nice to see both of them face to face. Nikki and Brent were very close friends through high school (I think I've written about this before) and she sort of inherited me when he and I started dating. We've kept that friendship over the years and with Facebook it was easy to settle back in to it. Nikki and Caren have been close since high school. Caren and I knew of each other, we were both drama kids, and we had the Nikki connection, but we weren't close. Facebook brought us back into each other's orbit and we realized we really dig each other. We have past connections that we can touch on, but more importantly we are "now" friends not just "then" friends. We built our friendship out of the current day. It's kind of a unique situation. But they've both been there for us all along.

After grabbing lunch with them we hit the airport and were on our way again. 

A longer rough ride out of town, but not as bumpy as landing was. Still probably a metaphor there...

But that was it. 

It's all done now. 

We are orphans and have no paperwork still tying us to Albuquerque. We aren't sure that we will ever visit again for pleasure. It's an odd feeling. 

You can never go home again. Or at least not in the same way.