Greetings from ground zero – March 24

I did not write yesterday.  I just wasn’t there.  Thanks for understanding.

So, my father died suddenly almost a year ago and I am Executor of his estate.  Sounds straightforward enough.  Grief aside.  I had started to spend some much-delayed time with my dad and we were bonding and discovering each other in unexpected ways.  I really liked his girlfriend.

Then his heart exploded in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and that was that.  He was gone.  But everything he built remained and it was my job to steward it.

Did I mention he lived in Canada?

Yeah, so that’s been fun.  Managing an estate with multiple beneficiaries as an Out of Country Executor is not something I would wish upon any of you.  Also, we Americans think of Canadians as Nice.  I am here to tell you (and I am, technically, a Canadian b/c I was born there and retain rights of citizenship – why I’m not living there now is a fair question but not one I’ll be addressing here), they are not as nice as you think as much as they are polite.  We Americans have forgotten manners so nice and polite look very, very similar.

Anyway, that’s all background.  Several weeks ago, we (the Estate) received an offer on my father’s condominium that we accepted.  And the closing date is nowish.  It’s actually March 31^st.  There was a fair amount of drama around that date, but that’s what we decided, ultimately.  I was to go up there, be in Toronto for the closing and probate, see Sue, see my father’s home for the last time, yadda yadda.  Maybe even inter my father's ashes.

Two and a half weeks ago, I said, um.  I think we might need to explore a remote option.  Is that possible?  They humored me.  And I said, no, seriously, I’m pretty sure your country will not be letting me in in two weeks.  More humoring.  But, no matter, they did in fact humor me and we pivoted from an in-person scenario to a remote scenario.  And here we are.

Friday, I got the call from the attorneys.  They were shuttering the office.  “Oh, my goodness.  You were so right.  So right.  We are sending the documents this afternoon and then we are going home.  Good luck.”  Polite. 

So, yesterday I received the papers; today I literally video-notarized via Zoom the papers (a stand alone adventure), and tomorrow they should be back in Canada.  Will we close next Tuesday?  No idea.  I’ve come to understand that a week in our current world is an eternity.  Fingers are crossed.

Insert here:  BIG SHOUT OUT to my friend Jan who continues, day in and day out, to keep Vashon’s Country Store open, including its mail service.  Disinfecting constantly and now with social distending “markers” on the floor.  She and her team handled my international mailing crisis with COVID grace.  YOU ALL ROCK.

But it was a stressful, stressful day in the way that people, like me, who are super privileged in these times of intense challenge, need, and grief can be stressed.  I literally feel like I am surfing a wave and catastrophe is the giant wave looming right behind my right shoulder.  Privilege.  Absolutely.  But in my defense, I am responsible for a lot of people.  Want everyone to come out whole.

So, anyway!  After that intense exchange and a full day of work, woven inbetween, I headed to the greenhouse to see if I was up to the task of making a little headway on reclaiming it.  And you know what?  I was.  And I did.  And I’m super excited about getting that space back into production AND being a nurturing space to hang out in.

AAAAAnnndd.  My first baby seeds sprouted in their flat in the greenhouse.  So excited!

Life goes on.  Deep breath. 

Be well.