Today I'm Selling Mom's Car

Today I'm selling Mom's car.

I go to her apartment in the morning and tell her I'm calling Triple A now. I tell her I'll be out for a few hours until I can sell the car then get back. She tries another few arguments. Like how her mechanic can pick up the car and bring it to her place. Nice try, but it worked when she had money and when she was living just a few blocks away. It won't work now. And I share with her: It's like a human body. If you don't use it, you lose it. The car has to be driven regularly, and she's not driving it at all. She has given up on the argument about when she gets her memory back. These are her last attempts.  She can't retain the financial issue. I get frustrated.

I call Triple A. They tell me 45 minutes. THREE HOURS later I'm still waiting. It's okay. I go into her apartment, we talk. Maybe it takes  the pain away for both of us. I hang some pictures and things on the wall, which she loves. I do a laundry. It takes our minds off of what today's task is.

Eventually Triple A comes and I leave. I drive the car STRAIGHT to the dealer. He's waiting there, so calmly. I need this.

An  hour later, they have the car and I have my freedom AND a check which I go straight to my mom's bank, which is conveniently across the street. She's actually coming out of this with some cash!!! 

Then the car dealer drives me back to my mom's senior village.

She's not thrilled that she gets cash out of this. But then again, what did I expect?

It's not always so easy to sell Mom's car.