After Daddy died, Mom kind of lost her financial rudder. They had spent 52 years making every single financial decision together and now she was lost in a lot of ways but the financial one was one I could fix. She had enough money. Daddy had financial OCD and he left everything in pristine shape, tax wise, cash wise, investment wise and records wise. (I thanked him, via ESP, 42 blue-gillion times.) She added me to all of her accounts and I monitored them online with Daddy's OCD-ness. Together we found a bank with a wonderful trust lady to handle the day to day stuff like bill paying. Between long term care insurance, some annuities, life insurance and social security, she was doing ok. I called her my little cash cow.
But the one nut I had the most difficult time cracking was the emotional one. She could spend some money on some things. She loved this really expensive perfume and would treat herself, but wouldn't buy the quilt she wanted for her bed because it was too expensive. She would eye a new xxx and I'd say 'we'll let's buy one' and she'd say 'but oh, it's way too expensive' and I'd counter with 'but, Mom, you can't take it with you.' Whenever she would buy something she considered frivolous, she'd tell me 'well, I can't take it with me!!' We probably used that phrase at least once a day.
I'm now on the proverbial seesaw over the adjustable bed. It's not critical. I have the money and I think I would enjoy the bed but it's a lot of money. But, I can't take it with me (either the bed or the money!)... I will probably go back and forth until Matt the salesman comes back on duty.
Swimming was fine. One of my long time swim buddies that I only see on Tuesdays and Thursdays stopped her swim to demand an answer to where I had been. I told her it was so cool that she missed me and I meant it.
It's not cold at all outside and nearly too warm in here. I am not ready to let go of winter yet. At least the sun isn't out.