We picked up Tom Petty yesterday, after his long journey from England. I had ordered the canvas print of him 3 weeks ago, and delivery was scheduled for May 3rd at the earliest, so it surprised me to learn that Tom had been sitting at the post office for 5 days already. Yay for speedy service – I love it when my expectations are exceeded, which doesn’t happen too often. The picture itself was an awesome find. It really makes a cool, unique addition to our little tin can. I try to pick out decor that speaks to me in some way, and this piece definitely did. It’s a beautiful portrait of one of our favorite musicians, and one of 2017’s greatest losses. Tom’s song lyrics (especially the ones quoted here) have always resonated with me. On a side note – this is the only thing that I’ve ever bought from a shop in England, so I feel kind of “fancy” to have it gracing our hallway. We didn’t have much time to hang out and admire the new artwork, as we were hitting the road to help Mom run errands. As usual, we stopped at Beaverton Fred Meyer for her groceries. Just as we found a parking spot, we saw a guy returning to his car that we would have mistaken for Dad, if he were still alive. (At Dad’s favorite place to shop, no less.) He was almost identical in appearance – height, build, hair, clothes, posture, just about everything. Bob and I spotted him at the same time and froze, as our hearts skipped a beat. Just as if we’d seen a ghost, we had goosebumps to the bone. If I had taken a photo of this guy, and put it side by side with a photo of Dad, (like this one) it would be difficult to find differences.
It was a very surreal and haunting encounter that will probably linger in my head for a while.
We’re probably venturing back to Beaverton tomorrow, as my sister will be in town, and I haven’t seen her in 8 years or so. She’ll be staying at Mom’s for 2 nights while she attends a workshop in Salem. We were hoping we could convince Mom to go back home with Trudy, so she could visit with her and the animals for a while. Mom often mentions how much she wants to do that, and how it’s been forever since she has spent time at Trudy’s place. We thought that Bob and I could pick her up at Portland Greyhound on her return trip, and such could be our Mother’s Day gift to her. However, Mom is refusing, and she has thrown herself into a neurotic tizzy. She’s raving about how she’s too crippled for the trip, and has to have physical therapy for her moving related injuries to her back and shoulder before she goes anywhere. The problem with that is, she has been saying the same thing for almost a year now. She is clearly in pain and very frail, but won’t get any professional help for it. We have offered to arrange transportation to get her to PT appointments, and she still won’t go. Why? She says she’s too crippled to do it. But yet she says she can’t do anything or go anywhere until she gets the therapy. Go figure. As usual, (and even more so lately) she seems content to complain about her issues, blame others for them, and obsess about what’s happened to her in the past. Trying to get better doesn’t seem to be on the agenda. These days, I wish I could have one conversation with her that didn’t include her ranting about the bitch manager that forced her to switch apartments and ruined her life, and how she’d beat the shit out of her if she could. Sometimes she repeats that rant several times during one conversation. I say nothing and let her carry on, summoning up every ounce of my patience. Some days I feel a little short on it, but suck it up anyway. I love my mom. Anyway, I guess we’ll see what happens tomorrow. (Tomorrow never knows.) No clue on that, or if I’ll post something about it, but I have a feeling I’m going to be totally wiped out by the end of this week.