Rage, anger, and swearing

This week has been fucktastic. Fucktacularly fucked. A fucking nightmare, if you get what I’m saying,

I found out that since I am not a beneficiary on my dads life insurance policy, I have to go through legal channels to get the money. My moms estate was never settled thanks to my dads reluctance, neither one of them left a will, I’m basically fucked, because I was going to use the life insurance money to settle the estates. Now I may have to hire an attorney even though I probably can’t afford a retainer. I really don’t know what’s going to happen. I half expect them to come throw us out of the house because we don’t own it. I don’t know if I can sell furniture that I wanted to sell because its probably property of the estates.

Then there’s Baldwin Fairchild/Dignity. Please, do NOT EVER use them. For anything. I beg you. When my mom passed, I set up prepaid for my dad, and that was paid in full a few months ago. I thought I set up to pay for cremation, an urn, and placement. Apparently, only cremation was covered. I had to pay for death certificates and cremation license, no biggie. However, the death certificates contain incorrect information and its going to take at least six weeks to get new ones. Great.

When I picked up the death certificates, I inquired about my fathers remains. The lady told me to call the cemetery to make sure he hadn’t “slipped through the cracks.” What does that even mean? I call there, they know nothing, I call the funeral director. Two hours later I still hadn’t heard back so I called again. Apparently the ashes are at the cemetery. I’m not entirely convinced they didn’t have to scramble to find them.

So, since I didn’t have an urn in that deal, I thought I was going to have to buy one. However, there was a problem–the niche for two? Well, there was a problem with space for the second urn. They had to do some hunting to find one that would fit. Luckily, I guess, they found one, and they are not going to charge me for it. However, if I want to place him in the niche, which means removing four screws, removing the small marble plate, placing the urn inside, and replacing the plate and screws, is going to cost $685. Up front. No financing available. What the actual FUCK is that? I can’t pay that, so I’m not going to.

At this point, I don’t know what I’m going to do with him. I go to the cemetery Monday morning to fill out paperwork and make a decision. My heart is telling me to finance a new plaque for the niche and leave my mom in their alone, even though it would cost a lot more than $685. As for my dad, maybe we could stash him in the garage. I do recall when I was pregnant he did say “You get bored with everything and stash it in the garage. You’ll do the same with that baby.” Well, I’m not exactly bored with him. More like LIVID. Perhaps the trash is a better option?

Rest in peace, fucker.

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