Nothing Left

All the furniture still in my aunt's condo has been spoken for. Either it will go to the consignment shop, or to my dad's girlfriend's son and daughter-in-law, or to dad should he move into the condo. Dad's girlfriend's son will repair the ceiling where the A/C leaked and where there's a long, straight crack from dining room into living room and where the wall in the second bedroom got knocked in by an enthusiastic moving person. The carpet will need to be replaced and we'll get a cleaning person in to delve into nook and cranny to get rid of dirt and webs and gritty bits.

There's nothing left of her there anymore. Actually, there wasn't much of her there left when we arrived last week. She hadn't been there for almost 5 months; it was as if her essence had either evaporated away or the dust had muffled it.

Dad hugged me and thanked me for everything that brother and I did. Said he wouldn't have known what to do, would have been lost. Thank god DH was with me to be my support. If he hadn't been there to keep me sane, I'd probably still be in the condo, sitting in the middle of the living room, crying over having to donate an old pair of socks or a broken pair of dollar store earrings. I told dad if we weren't there, he'd have muddled through. It may have taken a while to get to the same point where we are now, but he would have gotten there. He's just glad he didn't have to do it alone. I hope brother and I don't have to do it alone when it's his time to go.