Back to the Pool Wars...Year 3

 I'm still at Pool Wars Year 3? Here is what I was dealing with when I opened the pool for the 3rd year. At the end of year 2, I covered the pool by myself and I ONLY drained the water til just below the hatch. I had used 11 2-Compartment bags and 4 bags with one side usable. Over the winter I did have to put a few cinder blocks and one pail full of old pool sand as high winds caused the cover to move about. All alone I uncovered which takes me back to the pool cover vs lawn issue.

A few weeks later....

First item to report, that perfectly rectangular crop circle, OK fine-where I killed the lawn by leaving lay the pool cover that could cover Asia? Guess I moved fast enough....

Another week passed and.....

In my head I'm able to say, "See Dad, it grew back I didn't kill it....(yet:)".

Now it was time to put the additional water into the pool and turn on the filter.....So 'TIMEX', the filter which for years which took the lickings and kept on ticking, or in this case 'filtering'.

The beginning of the end. The only issue I 'thought' I had prior to turning the on/off switch was located at 1. A little tube which last year had developed a lovely spout about 5" up and out. Year 2., naturally I EPOXIED the hole and it resolved the issue  for the summer, although it still dripped. The tubing was yellow and dried out thus the pinhole spout. So I had removed it when I closed the pool and simply purchased a new length of tube. So that was my first repair. Installing the new tubing the old yellow pieces it attached to with washers into holes in the PVC all held by clamps, well~try to visualize the domino effect. One of the yellow pieces broke where the tube slipped on. Then the other yellow tube split at the end attached to the washer. Now the tube no longer was dual end usable. I could put one end of the tube over the yellow piece which still had the 'slip on', but I couldn't wedge the tube over the larger piece  the 'slip on' had broken off of. So back to Lowe's I went and got a larger tube. Getting the tube fitted on both yellow pieces, clamps slipped on and the pieces and washer back into the PVC I tightened it all down. Then with one of the many rolls of plumbers tape I found along the way I taped where the gaps were.

Water up, turned the switch on. Was going to need liquid nail as around the fittings on 1. as leak was still too big. Squirt-moosh moosh~drying. NEXT! The big issue was 2. & 3. Now 2. I had epoxied last year on the advice of pool guy and although it still dripped it was minimal. But this year......2. was a steady stream, the 3.? 

On 3, the PVC which WAS at the arrow, cracked apart due to age. But there seemed to be no leaks despite that so.....

So I gathered 'help'. Along with duct tape and liquid nail was the bedrock of all supplies, epoxy. And I began. First I applied epoxy all around 2. where it leaked, but the gap and depth of the area was just too vast. So finding an 'old' chalking gun with 'old' caulk I levered it into the entire round of the PVC. I let it harden, a little bit, and turned the pump on. It held, for about 20 seconds and then began dripping from multiple areas around the fitting. Turned it off and packed more chalking in and let it dry. Before I left for the day I epoxied OVER the caulk. 24 hrs later again hit the ON button and it lasted about 40 seconds then drips. ARRGGHH! I can figure this out, DUCT TAPE. So I wrapped a few rounds of tape over the gap around the epoxy, caulk, epoxy. Then I epoxied over the duct tape.

 Ah HA. 24 hours later and ON. It lasted another 40 seconds and then slowly leaks appeared from the corners and edges of the duct tape and around the epoxy. THAT'S IT~NOW I'M PISSED.

So I put the ENTIRE ROLL OF DUCT TAPE AROUND IT. And in my best INTERNAL and EXTERNAL petulant child mode, I yelled~~LEAK NOW FILTER!!! I turned on the pump and went from child to master of sailor speak as both 2. and 3. did this....

 I stood there with water spritzing everywhere. 3. is evident in the photo, 2 meanwhile was sending out tiny jet streams which exponentially grew by the second.I briefly considered epoxing the ENTIRE DUCT TAPE, wait 24 hrs..........., forgot that. For a moment I considered walking the 10 feet over the the little house, stepping inside and going to the corner. Where I would pick up the sledge hammer, slowly return to the filter....AND BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF IT! The reality was, the filter had given far more years of service than it was designed to do. If my father was still alive I've no doubt he might eek out another year or two. But my father had worn out and I had to allow him to go. So the least I could do for this filter he nursed for the last 22 years of its life was allow it to go also. I walked in the house and picked up my cell phone and ordered its replacement and set up an appointment for installation.

Thoughts surface after episode of THE FIRST 48

A few nights ago I was watching an episode of The First 48 on A&E. For those of you unfamiliar with the show, a quick overview. The show chronicles cases from various  Homicide Divisions and each episode opens with 2 cases in 2 cities. Through the first 48 hours of a crime it follows the investigation, progress or lack of, of each case. Some scenes may be days, weeks or even months after, should information surface toward resolution and arrest of a suspect. Over the years most cases followed seem to lead to the arrest of a suspect, 'roll credits'. The last few years the standard show format has begun to periodically return to those arrests and the results of any charges. 

Of course this gives a sort of 'the end' to some cases. But as anyone who has been victimized knows, it never really ends. Particularly when the crime was a murder. Those who love the victim are themselves victims, as they exist until their deaths having hopefully come to 'terms' with everything. For many though, coming to 'terms' means fear, loss, anger, and grief. Much as those left behind due to Alzheimer's, whether due to the release of a person afflicted or the pain as their existence continues while their minds vanish, in some form we come to 'terms'. 

One of the shows detailing the suspects through trials end made me stop and think on the subject of what I have done, am doing and will do with my father's 'stuff'. I had mentioned hoarding before but that isn't really crux of this particular mind-meander. It is the usefulness and care of personal belongings, why we attach ourselves to 'things' and the value we place on them. And 'things' can run the gamut from 'junk' to 'valuable'. 

My intent has always been to humor and amuse with all my writing and I've done  much sorting and disposing before this blog began. But the process hasn't been 100% humorous. At the beginning there was a lot of unexpected waves of grief that seemed to arrive like a tsunami after an earthquake. And even today, albeit rare, I can still be unexpectedly knocked on my 'ass' simply picking up a tool or a book of my father's. Which is why the father on a THE FIRST 48 was so poignant.

He had lost his son through murder. And finally endured the trial and sentencing of the individual deemed to have committed the murder. At the end of the show he was washing and cleaning a car, speaking of his son~the car~and himself. The car was a wreck. Could it have been repaired and used again? Maybe. I tend to think with enough obstinate hard work most objects can often be made usable again. But this car? The hood was bent straight upward, obviously from impact. The steering wheel was angled toward the passenger seat, windows broken. No doubt the body damage to the entire front end was significant but unseen. The engine? Multiple issues just by looking at the hood stuck straight toward heaven. Certainly inside evidence of the murder of his son from being shot. Plus personal items left in the car.

This man was washing and polishing this heap of a vehicle where his son had ended his life. He spoke while he worked about how this was one of the last things he and his son did together. Detailing this vehicle. It seems the son had recently acquired the car and his father shared his joy by lovingly joining the son in sprucing it up. And every so often he would do just as he was now, keep the car clean and polished.

I saw struck by the depths of grief the man carried for the loss of his only son. I know he was doing this because it was one way he could still feel close and relive the joy they shared. But for myself it also gave me great pain to watch this man caring for this wreck of a car. I understood, but my wish for the man was he would be able to move beyond remembering his son by cleaning and polishing a destroyed vehicle..... a vehicle where his son was murdered.

I reflected on the last 2+ years of my journey, through all the work at this house. Many, including my mother, question why? Why do you want THAT? What are you going to do with THAT? Are you really EVER going to use THAT? Normally I smile and say I like it or want it, I'll use to to fix something, I used it yesterday. And I have used so many things to figure out and fix things.   Many are skeptical and I accept that. As time progresses I'll provide chuckles about what I've found and the big hoot HOW MANY X, Y, or Zs of an item I've discovered. And that is 'after' I've thrown many things out. 

But sometimes the questions are painful. And sometimes I just want to scream....WHOSE 'FRIGGIN' BUSINESS IS IT 'IF or WHAT' I KEEP.  Its my Mothers as she owns everything. But the home is paid for and no one yet has chosen to purchase it. What does it matter if there are 27 hammers that I've put in a box-it doesn't. Has anyone else done any work at cleaning, collecting, organizing, disposing of ANYTHING? Has anyone offered to HELP me as I mow a yard, struggle with a pool, haul furniture or fill a truck with metal which earned my mother $26? 
Does anyone care that when I find a saw, wooden handle with a red plastic embossed label with VAN HYNING on it, that I see my Dad using it as I watched? No. No one related or responsible for dealing with this task has done any work, asked if they can help or can see my memories.  Some are physically unable and I am fine with that. Some have obligations but when were present to assist, ultimately did little with the overall task. I'm eternally grateful to one who dealt with the packing of my fathers clothing, which at the time I was incapable of managing. Actually all in all I'm grateful to have been left to slog through solo, not having to hear 'why', 'you're doing it wrong', or 'lets just throw it out'.

Like the man, I treasure what keeps me close to my Dad. I believe most of what I have kept is serving a purpose and is needed. And even those things others question.... I know why I keep them and much has even been disposed of since someone first ask the question. There is a time=disposal factor. What I could not touch or consider putting in a trash can 2 years ago......I now can and each time I've gone through items more and more go into the trash. That is the process of grieving and there isn't one hard and fast rule as to how each takes that journey. The only hope is that we continue to keep moving.....at the end of the episode of THE FIRST 48 I found myself wishing for that father.....he could soon stop cleaning and polishing that car.

POOL WARS~YEAR 2-OPENING THE POOL

The pool company closed the pool at the end of year 1 as a cover was needed due to my destroying the patched tarp. And they installed the cover, cover which had made the 'crop circle/square' and which I managed to roll, move and lift onto sawhorses this summer. Well, lift perhaps isn't exactly the best description of how I got the cover on top of the saw horses. What actually occurred was numerous attempts to lift it, all of which resulted in the toppling of one or both of the sawhorses, failure. My attempt to put it on a board and tilting the board on an angled sawhorse which I then valiantly attempted to sit upright also failed. Finally despite all defeats, with the end of the cover propped on the edge of one sawhorse I inched the cover up on one sawhorse and then aided by my vast reservoir of 'sailor speak' I slowly crawled it to a position across the 2 sawhorses. Hm, Bet I Can Figure THIS Out. TAKE THAT~~COVER AND SAWHORSES!

When the pool company closed the pool I did note they seemed to drop the water level much lower than my Dad ever had done. But they were the 'pool guys' and did fancy things, like celebrate the closing event with gushers of water blasting up from the skimmer, which they informed were 'blowing the lines'. And instead of the cinder blocks, railroad posts and field stones they filled these 15 bags with water. Well the 15 bags had two compartments with plugs....rather like those rafts we had a kids. You know the ones that normally didn't last til the next year? Assuring me they would anchor the cover, which extended several yards on all sides beyond the pool-think maybe they sold me one a bit too large....ME TOO! I could envision my pool cover transformed into a hot air balloon which, one day when I arrived at the house, I would observe it living nicely atop a stand of trees. It all survived the winter nicely and in place.

The second year I had them open the pool. Hindsight is the one that is 100%, right? I tried to clean most of the leaves off the cover and had pumped some of the standing water but as I'd never hired a company to open the pool I really didn't understand what 'prepare' meant to the 'pool guys'. After 1 'pool guy' pumped a bit of water off the top and removed a large portion of the leaves and the other 'pool guy' had reassembled the pump they pulled a corner of the cover off to look at the water. At which point seeing how low the water in the pool was, the 'pool guy' looked at me and said "Did you order a water truck?" {15 years ago that bill was $600-think NOT 'pool guy'}. "NO, no water truck." Silence.

'Pool Guys' next question was "You don't have a well do you?" Hearing my therapist's voice in my head saying "congratulations on using your impulse control Susan," as severe impulsivity is key in my ADHD-I decided not to look around at the fields, streams, trees and farm buildings in mock horror and yell OH MY GOD, WE HAVE A WELL....NOT CITY WATER!! Instead I calmly stated "yes". To which he then informed me that they could open the pool but wouldn't run the filter as the water needed to be above the skimmer unit. Fortunately for him he didn't add, "because you only have 12" of water in your pool. I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE ASKED WHY THEY PUMPED IT SO LOW WHEN THEY CLOSED IT IN THE FALL.

I should note that the entire time they pumped the water off the cover, oh! during which they left for an hour and a half because it was taking so long, 'pool guy' kept hinting we must have a hole in the cover. Impulse control still working I didn't finally implode after the 'hole' theory was presented for the 10th time with, YOU MEAN THE TOO BIG POOL COVER I BOUGHT FROM YOUR COMPANY JUST LAST YEAR!!!

Also, another incident involved the 15 2~compartment bags. As they emptied the water to roll and stack them, for use in the fall, I noticed a few of them being placed in a separate pile. Asking why?, 'pool guy' said that one side on each in that pile had holes and hadn't survived the winter so he would dispose of them for me...????? At $15 a bag Xs 4 bags=$60 I stated that as one side still functioned why would I throw them away? 4 bags Xs 1 side leaking= 2 bags. I'm speculating that much like mechanics at a car dealership, I'd interferred with his commission for 'work outside of original issue'. Looking unhappy 'pool guy' grumbled "well if you want to keep them" as I walked away. Small victory but I cling to any victory no matter how minute.

When the cover was removed, cleaned rolled and put on top of the sawhorses, by 2 'pool guys' with numerous grunts, they left. Assuring me that 'when' the water was at the required level I could run the filter. Meanwhile though, since water level wasn't going to happen overnight, in 3 days or a week.....I could operate the filter on recirculate mode which would at least keep the water moving and some chemicals would keep things in check until then. They left.

The entire time 'pool guys' closed the pool and now opened the pool I could hear my Dad grousing. These were evolutions he completed, virtually solo, for over 21 years and now I have 'pool guys'-2 OF THEM-doing it. {Don't worry Dad the pool will be up and running soon, I promise}.

It took 2 weeks to get the water level at the required level. Meanwhile a steady leak from one of the 2 pipes on the side of the filter had been epoxied to a small drip. This 'fix' was recommended by the 'pool guy' and it worked. So the day arriving when I would turn off the pump to move the handle from 'recirculate' to 'filter'-- I was ready. I turned the switch to OFF, opened the strainer and cleaned it out thoroughly, tightened the strainer cover back on and it had been running it didn't need priming. I would turn the pump on and after the water started filling and big bubbles broke the top of the water I would do my Happy Dance around the pool. See Dad, I did it, HA!.

I turned the switch to ON, the electric buzz began........along with sparks shooting out of the pump casing followed by clouds of smoke........

Quickly I turned the switch to OFF, took a deep breath and told myself it was just a fluke and when I turned it on again everything would be alright. Reaching over I turned the switch to ON, I was right....no sparks.....no smoke....no electric buzz either......DEAD SILENCE. The pump had died. No Happy Dance for Susan. I went inside, typed in 'Hayward Pool Pumps' into my computer and found the best buy with free shipping and the quickest delivery. $300 and 4 days later at my feet a new pump.

Hm, Bet I Can Install This?

Ah, yes-the Junior John Deere

Today the rain is still dripping and so I've stayed at home and done things here. Home is simply a rented townhouse in a rental community. Over the 2 years since my Mom returned, with my Dad resting in his urn, to Pennsylvania from snowbirding in South Carolina~~the house I spoke of in the blog description, has absorbed my attention. As the time has passed I've brought items down or spoke with her regarding the ultimate destination of these possesions. At first it seemed the answer to any question I had regarding this or that was to 'get rid of it'. Cleaning out after the passing of a loved one is an emotional deluge anyway. Plus my Dad was your basic pack rat sort, as am I. For him everything had potential for "I Can Fix That" or "I Might Need That Later".

But as the parasite Alzheimer's began to attack my Dad, even before we realized the disease was taking hold, the pack rat mentality was slowly morphing into hoarding. He didn't buy things or keep things just because and there were things he did get rid of. The sort of hoarding variety it was came in 2 forms. One was the 'good deal' sort where items where purchased for future projects. But as his memory was attacked and when a project was tackled he either couldn't remember where he had put it or didn't recall having previously purchased the item. And the 'do it myself' side of him rejected offers of helping with the project or even finding materials he had put away. Or he would ask for help with a project but when the designated time arrived to assist, there were always 'THINGS I HAVE TO DO FIRST BEFORE I NEED YOUR HELP'. And those things never got done either they were OBE {Overcome By Events} or/and the ever growing just not physically able. So the pile of materials grew.

The second type of hoarding was the result of fear of sharing control. So rather than allow others to throw things out or assist to clear away the piles, his response was always to do it himself or later. More and more frequently the anger and fear he refused to acknowledge would result in huge fights over cleaning off his desk or any other areas of his.

We wanted and requested he seek medical assistance about the forgetfulness. And once we opened that door the fear and anger kidnapped more and more of my Dad's life. No matter how many times we said the purpose for seeking answers was not to control him but rather to identify IF anything was causing the problems and what could be done to deal with it, the idea was rejected. We never used the word Alzheimer's. And he was well aware of his loss of memory but his view was it wasn't due to anything wrong with his brain. He viewed our suggestion of medical advice as a challenge of his competence.

Over the last 10 years of his life there were many hospital stays for what was a never  clearly defined physical problem. Issues with his requesting what day it was a dozen times a morning wasn't due to anything within him, it was due to the stress we were placing on him. He did deal with heart disease starting at 52 but a triple by pass had basically resolved that issue. And well over decade later, the life expectancy of the bypass, he still was going strong. Eventually there were stents, clearing of carotid artery and what seemed an unending onslaught of medications added, increased, reduced or deleted.

The oft used phrase from my Navy days.....WHEN YOU'RE UP TO YOUR ASS IN ALLIGATORS ITS DIFFICULT TO REMEMBER THAT THE INITIAL OBJECTIVE IS TO DRAIN THE SWAMP. The material which was growing around the house became one of the alligators interrupting the goal of draining the swamp, dealing with Alzheimer's.

The point I started to speak of at the beginning? The John Deere and the house full of 'stuff'. We still have both John Deere's and I'm still going to tackle the second one. And I've gone through so much, thrown out so much, organized so much and brought home items to be used where we live. I've put things into a storage locker. My brother has taken a few items and no doubt will acquire other items from the house. But the original John Deere? It still sits on the cement slab behind the house. We know someone who has taken other metal collected during the last 2 years. He will take the John Deere. I just need to call him.

The junior John Deere~~~~HM BET I CAN FIX THAT!