Intermittent Chaos

Dearest Rachel –

It wasn’t precisely a nightmare, as such, but it was one of those dreams that you wake up from feeling quite glad that it wasn’t reality. Well the bulk of what was happening has faded from my memory, I vividly recall a mushroom cloud of fire and smoke erupting at a strange 80° angle from a bright blue car (that may or may not have been Daniel’s) that had some connection to one of his ex-girlfriends. Worse yet, the explosion was setting off a chain reaction among other cars in the vicinity; I don’t remember if we were in the middle of a junkyard or a traffic jam, and in some respects it doesn’t matter.

Needless to say, I was more than happy to leave that level of chaos behind.

But illusory chaos is one thing; I dare say I have enough of the real thing to deal with as it is. Only it’s that off-again, on-again type that makes it so hard to pinpoint, diagnose and fix.

For instance, you might recall from a letter I wrote to you last week, I’ve talked to Dad about what I could and should do about our failing washing machine. As it turned out, when I tried to wash some more of Chompers’ blankets this morning, the darn thing worked just fine. So while I now have contacts and leads as to where to get a replacement, I don’t need to rush out and get it just yet – which I was worried would screw up the timetable with regard to the renovation of the laundry room. I mean, all’s well that ends well, perhaps… although this doesn’t really qualify as an end; in fact, it’s simply staved off its end for a while longer.

This is just the sort of thing that makes life both interesting and frustrating. It would be one thing if the machine was broken. I could just make a decision, enlist my dad‘s assistance, drive out to the appliance center, and get a new pair of machines (yeah, I know you’d consider it wasteful, but I would probably need to get both washer and dryer at the same time, and of the same make and model for decor purposes – look, I’m trying to makes the laundry room look nice as well as being more functional with this remodel. I’d be replacing them both come March or April, regardless). But for the moment, the thing is hanging on by a thread, and I’m never quite sure when it’s going to snap. I can only hope that when it happens, there’s nothing stuck in there that would get ruined by its breaking down.

Speaking of appliances…

At least the chaos on the refrigerator – while constant, rather than intermittent – is only on the outside, at least for now (there are some pizza crusts in there from when Logan was over a couple of weeks ago that Daniel kept in order to give to the dog, and never got around to – that story probably sounds all to familiar, no?). I suppose at some point I should simply take down Daniel’s artwork, and file it with the rest of his memorabilia, but I don’t know that I’m ready to do that just yet. Maybe I’ll need to have Jan in specially to kick my tuchas about it. She’d also know where his artwork is stored, so I could get it into the correct bin.

I have, at least, added one new thing to the outside of the fridge: this year’s Sparks calendar (alongside the freezer). Since you’re not here to keep track of what each week’s events are, I’ve got to do something to remind myself (and Daniel) about what we need to prepare for each Monday evening. And while I know I’ll be attending Grief Share for the next three months, that won’t go on indefinitely. Besides, I’ll still be making an appearance at the beginning and end of each club session in order to drop off and collect the awards that I need to update.

But that’s not the only a little bit of chaos that’s been happening on the fridge this week. The other morning, while I had put a couple of hot pockets in for breakfast, and was carrying the dog outside to do a second round of water-letting, I tried to hit the timer in order to know when to take them out.

You’ll notice there’s nothing on the display. There’s a reason for that.

I simply tried to press the minute button a few times, but the first press was enough for it to lose its grip on the fridge and fall to the floor, scattering the backplate and battery hither and yon. I collect the pieces, and put them back together, to the results that you see above… which is to say, none.

So, while I don’t have to replace the washing machine just yet, it looks like I’ll have to replace the timer. And I’m afraid Dad won’t be able to help me as far as where to look for something like that.

Maybe I’ll ask Mom…

Anyway, that’s been my day. I assume yours has been much better. Wish me luck, honey. I think I’m going to need it.

Published by randy@letters-to-rachel.memorial

I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

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