A weekend of life….and death…..rinse, repeat.

It seems like everyone is dying. One of my dear, dear friends went comatose this morning out of the blue and no one’s sure what happened.

This dear friend is none other than my dishwasher.

Everything was fine until I went to run a full load this morning and it decided to go to the big kitchen in the sky.  The lights light up but nothing happens.  I threw the breaker like the nice people on the online forum said.  I alternately pushed “heated dry” and “normal wash” to “reset” the “computer.”  Nothing.  I left it alone all day, to return at night to see if it fixed itself (the machines at work have a habit of doing this).  Nope.

My sorry butt spent the better part of an hour trying to remember how to do dishes in the sink.  Luckily, The General was on the phone to help walk me through this process that I haven’t done since I was in college, circa 2004.

Where is The General?  In the Great White North with family, celebrating life.  Our nephew graduated high school this weekend and they threw a big party for him.  It was a last minute decision and I couldn’t go because of work and I wasn’t ready to spend a large amount of money on  airfare.

To make matters worse, The General had an hour’s drive back to his hometown from the airport and the jerk rented a car.  And not just any car, the most beautiful car to come out of Detroit: a 2011 Dodge Challenger.  I drool over them in the parking lot when a Camero isn’t in sight.  So beautiful!  The General wasn’t impressed with the interior, but I’m sure he looked bad ass driving it down the interstate.  I’m so jealous I’m actually a bit green under this dark tan.

They buried Bea on Saturday, my mom said the service was well done and I should probably try to make it up north sometime this summer to see Austin and relive some awesome moments of my childhood vacation destination.  I decided to write Austin a letter expressing my condolences.  I am much more of a writer than a talker.  I will send the letter as soon as I figure out what I want to say and get it on paper.

My weekend was surrounded by the dying, as health care goes to be sometimes.  Despite missing out on all the “life” my loved ones were experiencing up north – burying a wonderful godly woman and launching a young man, who surprisingly has a good head on his shoulders, into the real world – I got to experience my own bit of life here.  I know I helped save at least 2 lives this weekend.  For the sake of federal laws I can’t write about them in detail; but the 45 minutes I spent running in circles, I know I was part of the chain that kept someone’s loved ones from planning a funeral.  Heavy stuff, really.

I would have much rather been with my mom or husband saying good-bye to family or saying hello to family I’ve never met…..but I was needed here, teetering on the edge of life and death in my chosen career….for someone else’s family who doesn’t know I exist.  That’s the beauty of doing work behind the scenes: you’re essential to the process, you just don’t get the credit.  And I like it that way.

I’m not sure what to do with the dishwasher.  I’d like the guy from Sears to give it the last rites look at it and see if it’s worse fixing….or buy a new one.  My diagnosis is a bad board.  Who knows how much that will be.  We’re going to wait on it for the time being since we’ve spent money like it’s going out of style lately.  I could dip further into my savings for this, but I’m not going to.

The dishwasher is like the spleen: it’s nice to have, but if you don’t have one, the liver takes over it’s job of culling out the old cells.

And now I am the liver.  Chopped liver.  But you can’t live without a liver.

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