Susan's front storm door snapped two of its hinges months ago. Months and months ago, like maybe almost a year ago. It deteriorated to the point where it didn't close properly, or at all unless you put in the extra effort. Then it developed a loud metal rubbing against metal creak that could have been used in a horror movie as the sound of a casket opening. It was pretty bad.

Last month during the first visit by Susan's landscapers, the garden gate got busted when the big standing mower ran into it. Prior to that its ability to swing open had been somewhat compromised, but the mower rendered the gate a cripple which had to be carried gently and placed in an open position, or a closed position depending on whether one was entering or exiting. It too was pretty bad.

Last weekend little sister's sleepover company came to Susan's house to annihilate the sliding screen door leading to the deck. Guess which one of these three is now known (only to Susan) as The Destroyer:

If you guessed the littlest one then you would be correct.
When she wasn't using her brute strength to burst through old doors with torn screens and wheels which often didn't sit properly in their tracks, she was pretty charming. So were her sisters.

The quality of Susan's life in her own house was declining fast.

Cousin Greg, most recently of GIANT jenga fame, offered his assistance which Susan immediately accepted. In fact, she may have even initiated the idea that she needed his assistance. Regardless, Cousin Greg is a generous and decent person, as well as her brother in grief, but most importantly he's smart and HANDY with almost everything in the universe. And Susan is needy.

Cousin Greg came out on his day off to repair the gate, repair & re-screen the back door and install a new front door which required two trips to Home Depot before they got the right one. It was a hot day, he departed Susan's house ten hours after he arrived covered in sweat and smelling like armpits.

Oh, and he also fixed Susan's bedroom closet door.

Susan heard her son arrive home from work, walk through a front door that didn't cry out in screetching agony, and declare in a tone denoting impressed surprise Whoa! 
She brought him through the house to survey Cousin Greg's handiwork; he had given them more than fully functioning doors, he had restored their humanity.

Sleepover Company Days Three, Four, Five and Beyond

On Day Three Susan went to work and her sleepover company went to Montauk to climb the lighthouse and later discuss its claustrophobic qualities. Alone with her children at dinner Susan established the rule that when she picks up the tab they are responsible to put down the 20% tip. Why oh why couldn't she have thought of that last year?

Day Four saw a visiting MacBook Pro done in by a bottle of stout.

Day Five had everyone packed up & out the door early for the long drive home. Later, while Susan was out running errands in extreme heat she saw something straight outta the '70s; a big ol' pregnant lady walking around the supermarket parking lot smoking. That was almost like seeing a unicorn because when was the last time you saw a pregnant lady smoking, right?

Susan saw a bunch of other neat stuff over the next 24 hours like Charlie the local hobo pushing his shopping cart with a little baby doll propped against a dirty pillow. Then at the mall, where Susan and her daughter went to experience air conditioning, there was a treasure trove of visual treats such as the kiosk worker flossing her teeth without a shred of self consciousness.
The dude in a wheelchair giving his girlfriend a lift, but not in a sexy Coming Home way, more like a there's something wrong with both of them way.
To the heavily made up lady with adolescent curled hair do & a glitter tee shirt, Susan tried to wordlessly direct her daughter's attention, however if she's going to ignore her mother's signals she's going to miss out on such gems.

In between Susan's sleepover company and the mall there was a hillbilly backyard party held in honor of her daughter's graduation from High School and 18th birthday, here are a few of the die hard stragglers:

And GIANT Jenga!

T h e     E n d .

Susan's Plan of Grief Recovery

Susan's beloved Cousin Lisa was buried with military honors three months to the day after the husband died. She imagines the husband was pleasantly surprised to see Cousin Lisa show up in whatever location they now find themselves. This gives Susan comfort although it doesn't keep her from covering her face and sobbing into her hands at the thought of it.

On that first sad day Cousin Greg told Susan We're in the same club now. Sure, the Heartbroken Persons Club of Misery and Sleeping Alone Forever.

It needed a dramatic title.

After that, Susan spent some time thinking about what she knew of navigating grief so that she may help her fellow club member. Any success she's had comes from believing that she will be OK. She started a list and wrote the word BELIEVE.

Next she thought about how she would seek comfort by climbing back into bed with her morning coffee then stay there till the afternoon. She wrote that down, COMFORT.

She didn't always cry although she wanted to. To remedy this she'd look at a picture of her warm, protective, funny, smart, wonderful husband's face and let his absence overwhelm her. Once it started she'd keep it going.
She wrote CRY.

Next came a long one; DON'T ALLOW THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THINGS TO GET OUT OF CONTROL. This is why she came home & immediately stripped the bed, began clearing out his bedroom drawers, then hit the closet.

As Susan began taking over household & financial tasks previously maintained by the husband a word kept sailing through her head; simple.
Keep everything simple. Make it easy.
She thought about this word often, it became like her mantra. She wrote INSPIRATION WORD.

CREATE NEW RITUALS. Thursday Movie Night was instituted by the college wrestler. Each week one member of Susan's little family gets to choose a movie and accompanying snacks. The movie is totally up to the discretion of the chooser and kept secret until time of viewing to cut down on complaining by the audience. There are no rules for Thursday Movie Night beyond mandatory attendance between the hours of 8-10 pm.

Susan moves in slow motion through her days. Work is exempt from this lethargy because it's work, and she has to get sh*t done. But, when she's home only one thing per day gets accomplished when formerly it might be seven or eight. And, she's completely absent minded.
Susan finished with TO DO LIST lest nothing at all get done.