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March 4, 2013 / Andee Frizzell

All That Remains

urn2Last weekend I helped a friend of a friend move. This move was unique due to the fact that Sandra (the move’ee) was not in the city to oversee the particulars. She did however, send explicit instructions on how she would like the disassembly, the packing and the moving of her personal effects to go.

Sandra even allotted sections of the three story, three bedroom house to the help’ees. I was in charge of the common areas, bathroom, living room, kitchen, as I have never personally met the woman and I was grateful to have been excused from having to put her under neethers into rubber bins.

Paula was in charge of the attic. The attic was full of personal papers and private such things. As Paula is a fantastic no nonsense lawyer, her professional, non sentimental, toss it out attitude sped the process of eliminating the clutter at a rapid rate. We decided to break for lunch. I, Paula and Jon headed down to the nearest Subway for a bite.

On the way there, Sandra text Paula reminding her that Bob’s, (Sandra’s father), ashes were in the attic in a hand crafted wooden box. Paula replied she had set Bob’s ashes aside and that we had been informed of the valuable crate contents.

Within two minutes, Sandra text back, “Oh, yeah. BTW My Uncle Joe’s ashes are also up there.”

Paula’s face drained of blood.The attic had been successfully emptied of all but Bob at this point. She responded back, “What was Uncle Joe in?”

“He was in a reusable grocery bag.”

Paula and I raced back to the house and began ripping open the nine black garbage bags that lined the rear of the house, waiting to be picked up by the trash collectors. After tearing through about a third of the bags, Jon comes out holding up a dusty looking old Safeway reusable grocery bag and innocently asks, “You looking for this? I found it on the stairs.”

Uncle Joe had been found intact. Somewhat intact I suppose and we all breathed a sigh of relief. Paula placed Bob and Uncle Joe on the kitchen island to be collected the following morning by the movers.

The movers, Sandra’s Mum and brother were in charge of moving everything to a nearby storage locker.

After three full loads had gone, it was time to pack up what remained; the remains. Somewhat ceremoniously Paula handed Sandra’s Mum, Bob. He was delicately placed on the flat bed truck. Then it was Uncle Joe, also delicately put onto the platform.  Mum then turned to Paula, arms outstretched and asked, “Where’s Granny?”

“Granny?” Paula swallowed hard. “I’ll be right back,” she said as she bolted into the house with me in tow. “Listen,” she said in her most no nonsense, don’t give me that look, lawyer tone, “ I’m an Atheist. I don’t believe in all these ‘remains’ shenanigans. There is an SPCA down the road that cremates strays. You keep Mum busy. I’m going down to that place and get us a Granny.”

We were fortunately spared the SPCA adventure for minutes later Sandra text, “F.Y.I. I used Granny’s urn as a flower vase so I had to mix her in with Uncle Joe.”

Ever feel like Life just punk’d you?

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2 Comments

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  1. Stephenie LaMaina / Mar 4 2013 4:56 pm

    Finally caught up on all you posts. You should write a book; you are hysterical!

    Slam

    • Andee Frizzell / Mar 4 2013 8:39 pm

      Thank you for tuning into the madness that’s me Slam! I wish I could have been there for the mint hand off to the bad breath bandit you mentioned earlier!! Lol If he had TRIED to slam you Slam bad breath would have been the least of his problems fo’sho!! Haha

      Sent from my iPhone

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