I'm drinking tonight. The chicks mother died in her home Friday morning after a rough but blessedly short battle with C. Still too long and too painful.

When I got to their house to support the chick the mother was still there, in the house, in the bed, dead. We were waiting on the mortuary to get there. They got there...and everyone stood around waiting for the shitty sister to get there who was supposed to be on her way before they took her. Well, it's true what they say about everything letting loose when you die, and the house has a terrible odor. I step outside to the front walk followed by the mortuary guys. It's a beautiful day and we talk and manage to joke about their jobs and, I guess about mine, and eventually it gets time to look at our watches...bitch still wasn't there.

So I go into the house again and find the chick and she says "we're waiting on the "shitty sister", she's on the way"
I say: "says who?"
she says: "shitty sisters son".
I go to the son: "What did your mother say?"
He: "I didn't talk to her, I talked to her husband."
Me: "And?"
He: "He said he thought he knew where she was and he'd go find her"
Me: "So, no one has talked to shitty sister?"
Four or five people: "No, no one knows where she is."

I go back to the Chick and her Dad in the kitchen. "No one has actually talked to your sister. It's time." Her poor Dad who has lost his mate of 53 years looks at me and says: "Well, if you say so, I guess it's time then."

So I go back out and get the mortuary guys and they are all too happy to go in and get her.

So I've spent the last two days refereeing the most dysfunctional family I've ever seen as the shitty sister showed up about 45 minutes later and was pissed because they'd taken her. Meanwhile my son-in-law and I had already stripped the house of the hospital bed and all the signs of her suffering and illness at the widowers request.

So yeah, I'm drinking for a while tonight. I'll drink tomorrow night too.