My Mom seems to find very odd things funny. I assume it’s related to the denial that comes from compulsive hoarding.
She recently shared a gem which leaves her laughing and me terrified. Her house is crumbling around her, and now, it’s:
A House with No Escape
Backstory: Mom’s house is an unusual design. It’s essentially a bungalow but on the second floor. The first floor of the house has a small apartment, and a large double garage. Dad used to run his business from the garage, and it has huge & heavy rolling doors. The front door is in the middle of the apartment and garage, and to get upstairs there are 36 steps.
I know this hallway by the front door is filled with stuff. It was 50% filled 11 years ago. The last time Lynn saw my Mom open the door, she said it couldn’t open all the way. So, it was already a serious situation.
The Door Won’t Budge
Mom tells me the door has been sticking. I get that. With changes in weather and humidity, doors tend to do that. But Mom’s front door is sticking so much, she sometimes can’t open it. I know she’s tried sanding it down, oiling it, and a few other tricks, and yet, there would be days she’d come home and not be able to get in the door. She’d push, and nudge, and probably curse, but it wouldn’t push open.
That’s when my senior citizen mother would have to try to raise the heavy-duty garage doors. And then climb over all the stuff left in the garage from Dad’s business which was never cleared away after his death. 7 years ago.
So, finally, Mom got tired of doing this difficult task. After struggling with the door again, she lost her temper and kicked it.
Wouldn’t you know…it opened right up! My Mom is SO amused by this!
And while the idea of my elderly Mother turned ninja is amusing to most, I’m cringing.
I’m cringing because not only is the door sticking when she wants IN to the house, but also when she wants OUT of the house.
That’s right. Should there ever be a fire, and by pure Act of God my frail Mother makes it past burning walls of stuff, down 36 smoldering wooden steps, and down a smoke-filled hallway, she still won’t be able to open the damn door to get out.
How’s that for a haunting image?
Jumping out a window is not an option, as all her living space is on the second flood. There’s a back porch, but those wooden stairs have been withering in the elements for years. I wouldn’t trust them to hold my purse. There’s the garage, but again, the path is cluttered, and the doors are heavy.
I expressed as much to her. She still chuckled, and revealed she did indeed have trouble getting the door to open from the inside. So she tried kicking it again, and yes, it opened. But think about that. The door swung open toward her after being kicked. This whole set up is compromised and needs repair, but since she was able to Hi-YA it open, she considers it problem solved.
She refuses to take this seriously. And my fear of her being caught in a fire just got deeper.