Before I explain what happened next, I need to explain how our family handled Mom's propane.<\/p>\n
My name is Connie Weber.<\/p>\n
I was fifty-four years old at the time.<\/p>\n
I was the second of four children.<\/p>\n
Pam was the oldest.<\/p>\n
Then came me, followed by Rob and Dean.<\/p>\n
Pam lived in Harvey, approximately twelve miles from Mom's farm.<\/p>\n
She had spent most of her married life there and worked at the local clinic.<\/p>\n
Her husband, Mark, drove trucks for the grain elevator.<\/p>\n
Because Pam lived closest, she naturally became the person responsible for most of Mom's daily needs.<\/p>\n
She bought groceries.<\/p>\n
She collected prescriptions.<\/p>\n
She drove Mom to appointments.<\/p>\n
She stopped by on Sundays.<\/p>\n
When something needed repairing, Pam usually knew about it before the rest of us.<\/p>\n
I lived in Bismarck with Steve.<\/p>\n
I worked as a payroll clerk for the school district.<\/p>\n
Rob farmed near Rugby.<\/p>\n
Dean worked in agricultural equipment sales in Fargo.<\/p>\n
We all had families, jobs, mortgages, and responsibilities.<\/p>\n
We couldn't visit Mom whenever we wanted.<\/p>\n
Pam could.<\/p>\n
At least, that was how we had always looked at it.<\/p>\n
After Dad died, we had a family discussion during the funeral lunch at the church.<\/p>\n
We knew Mom would need help paying for propane.<\/p>\n
The winters were expensive, and the farmhouse was large enough to require regular deliveries.<\/p>\n
Pam offered to manage the cooperative account.<\/p>\n
Rob suggested that the three of us living farther away should contribute.<\/p>\n
Dean asked how much would be reasonable.<\/p>\n
We settled on $250 each.<\/p>\n
Every October.<\/p>\n
Pam would handle the account and arrange the deliveries.<\/p>\n
The three of us would send her our contributions.<\/p>\n
That meant $750 from us, plus whatever Pam contributed herself.<\/p>\n
Four shares.<\/p>\n
One family responsibility.<\/p>\n
We believed that was a fair arrangement.<\/p>\n
We followed it for four years.<\/p>\n
Not once had I asked Pam for a detailed accounting.<\/p>\n
Not once had I requested a delivery receipt.<\/p>\n
I trusted her.<\/p>\n
She was my sister.<\/p>\n
And I knew how much time she spent looking after Mom.<\/p>\n
That night, however, I was beginning to realize that trust and information were not necessarily the same thing.<\/p>\n
I returned to the recliner and looked at Mom again.<\/p>\n
I wanted to wake her.<\/p>\n
I wanted to ask why the furnace wasn't running.<\/p>\n
But first, I needed to know how much propane remained.<\/p>\n
I put on my gloves, picked up my flashlight, and walked back outside.<\/p>\n
The tank stood beside the farmhouse.<\/p>\n
Snow covered its upper surface.<\/p>\n
The metal lid protecting the gauge was frozen around the edges.<\/p>\n
I brushed away the snow.<\/p>\n
Then I used my car key to remove some ice covering the glass.<\/p>\n
The gauge was difficult to read at first.<\/p>\n
I leaned closer.<\/p>\n
Then I saw the needle.<\/p>\n
Five percent.<\/p>\n
I checked again.<\/p>\n
Still five.<\/p>\n
I stood there in the freezing wind, staring at that little pointer.<\/p>\n
The tank held 500 gallons.<\/p>\n
Five percent meant approximately twenty-five gallons remained.<\/p>\n
In ordinary weather, that would have been concerning.<\/p>\n
In a severe North Dakota cold snap, it was much worse.<\/p>\n
The furnace was old.<\/p>\n
The house was large.<\/p>\n
The temperature outside was dangerously low.<\/p>\n
Twenty-five gallons might not last long.<\/p>\n
Now I understood why the furnace had stopped running.<\/p>\n
I also understood why Mom was wearing everything she owned.<\/p>\n
My hands were shaking.<\/p>\n
I couldn't tell whether it was because of the cold or what I was beginning to suspect.<\/p>\n
I went back inside.<\/p>\n
The kitchen refrigerator was covered with photographs, calendars, church announcements, and coupons.<\/p>\n
Mom never threw away anything useful.<\/p>\n
There were school pictures of the grandchildren held in place by magnets.<\/p>\n
A calendar from the Harvey Farmers Elevator hung near the freezer.<\/p>\n
I began looking for propane paperwork.<\/p>\n
I didn't know exactly what I expected to find.<\/p>\n
Perhaps a delivery notice.<\/p>\n
Maybe an invoice.<\/p>\n
Anything that would tell me when the tank had last been filled.<\/p>\n
Then I noticed a pink piece of paper underneath a magnet shaped like an ear of corn.<\/p>\n
It was a carbon-copy delivery ticket.<\/p>\n
I pulled it free.<\/p>\n
The date was October 19.<\/p>\n
The customer name was Pamela Ruff.<\/p>\n
The delivery location was listed as Elsie Heinz's farm.<\/p>\n
I read the amount.<\/p>\n
Two hundred gallons.<\/p>\n
I turned the paper over.<\/p>\n
There was nothing else.<\/p>\n
I looked at the number again.<\/p>\n
Two hundred.<\/p>\n
I knew the tank's capacity.<\/p>\n
I knew the way the cooperative normally handled winter deliveries.<\/p>\n
A 500-gallon tank wasn't filled completely to the top. Propane needed room to expand, so the usual maximum was around eighty percent.<\/p>\n
If the tank was nearly empty, a substantial delivery could bring it up to approximately 400 gallons.<\/p>\n
Two hundred gallons was nowhere near that amount.<\/p>\n
I tried to remember the price of propane the previous October.<\/p>\n
It had been around $2.00 per gallon.<\/p>\n
That meant the delivery had cost roughly $400.<\/p>\n
But Rob, Dean, and I had sent Pam $250 each.<\/p>\n
Seven hundred and fifty dollars.<\/p>\n
And that was before including Pam's promised contribution.<\/p>\n
I stood beside the refrigerator and did the calculation again.<\/p>\n
Seven hundred and fifty.<\/p>\n
Minus four hundred.<\/p>\n
Three hundred and fifty dollars.<\/p>\n
Where had the rest gone?<\/p>\n
I looked through the papers on the refrigerator.<\/p>\n
I searched the calendar.<\/p>\n
I checked the kitchen drawer where Mom kept old bills.<\/p>\n
There were receipts for groceries, medicine, and various household purchases.<\/p>\n
But I couldn't find another propane delivery ticket.<\/p>\n
Nothing from November.<\/p>\n
Nothing from December.<\/p>\n
Nothing from January.<\/p>\n
I looked toward the living room.<\/p>\n
Mom was still in Dad's recliner.<\/p>\n
Her brown coat was zipped to her chin.<\/p>\n
I felt something uncomfortable settling in my stomach.<\/p>\n
I didn't want to believe my sister had done something wrong.<\/p>\n
Pam had always been the responsible one.<\/p>\n
She was the person who knew which doctor Mom needed to see and which prescription had to be collected.<\/p>\n
She had helped with Dad's funeral arrangements.<\/p>\n
She had stayed beside Mom when the rest of us returned to our own homes.<\/p>\n
But the numbers were sitting in front of me.<\/p>\n
And numbers didn't care about family history.<\/p>\n
I folded the pink receipt and put it in my pocket.<\/p>\n
Then I walked into the living room.<\/p>\n
I knelt beside Dad's chair.<\/p>\n
The old vinyl armrest had cracked in several places.<\/p>\n
Dad used to sit there every evening after supper.<\/p>\n
After his death, Mom had taken his place.<\/p>\n
I placed my hand on her knee, over the crocheted blanket.<\/p>\n
"Mom."<\/p>\n
She didn't move.<\/p>\n
I gently shook her arm.<\/p>\n
"Mom, it's Connie. Wake up."<\/p>\n
Her eyes opened slowly.<\/p>\n
At first, she seemed confused.<\/p>\n
Then she recognized me.<\/p>\n
"Connie?"<\/p>\n
Her voice was weak.<\/p>\n
"What are you doing here?"<\/p>\n
"I came because you weren't answering your phone."<\/p>\n
She glanced toward the windows.<\/p>\n
Then she looked at the clock.<\/p>\n
"It's late."<\/p>\n
"I know."<\/p>\n
She tried to sit up.<\/p>\n
I helped her adjust the blanket.<\/p>\n
"Why are you wearing your coat?"<\/p>\n
She looked down at herself.<\/p>\n
"Oh, I'm comfortable."<\/p>\n
I didn't answer.<\/p>\n
I reached for her hand.<\/p>\n
Even through the glove, I could feel how cold it was.<\/p>\n
"Mom, the furnace isn't working."<\/p>\n
She looked away.<\/p>\n
"The house is a little cool."<\/p>\n
"A little?"<\/p>\n
I tried to keep my voice calm.<\/p>\n
"The thermostat says fifty-one degrees."<\/p>\n
She didn't respond.<\/p>\n
"The propane tank is almost empty. It's at five percent."<\/p>\n
Her fingers tightened around mine.<\/p>\n
Then she looked directly at me.<\/p>\n
"Don't start with Pam."<\/p>\n
I blinked.<\/p>\n
"What?"<\/p>\n
"Don't go after your sister."<\/p>\n
"Mom, I'm not talking about Pam right now."<\/p>\n
"Yes, you are."<\/p>\n
Her voice became firmer.<\/p>\n
I looked at her for several seconds.<\/p>\n
She was worried about something.<\/p>\n
Not the furnace.<\/p>\n
Not the cold.<\/p>\n
Pam.<\/p>\n
"Mom, I need to understand what's happening."<\/p>\n
She shook her head.<\/p>\n
"Pam has enough trouble."<\/p>\n
"What kind of trouble?"<\/p>\n
She hesitated.<\/p>\n
Then she told me about Mark.<\/p>\n
He had injured his back in September while lifting equipment at the grain elevator.<\/p>\n
Two discs had been damaged.<\/p>\n
He underwent surgery in Minot, and he hadn't returned to work.<\/p>\n
There was no disability coverage through his employer.<\/p>\n
Pam's clinic salary was supporting their household.<\/p>\n
Their mortgage.<\/p>\n
Their groceries.<\/p>\n
Their medical expenses.<\/p>\n
Everything.<\/p>\n
"She's trying her best," Mom said.<\/p>\n
I already knew about the surgery.<\/p>\n
Pam had mentioned it around Thanksgiving.<\/p>\n
But I hadn't understood how difficult things had become.<\/p>\n
"She says propane costs too much this year," Mom added.<\/p>\n
Then she gave me a small smile.<\/p>\n
"I don't mind wearing another layer."<\/p>\n
I looked at her coat.<\/p>\n
I looked at her gloves.<\/p>\n
Then I looked at the frost covering the windows.<\/p>\n
There was nothing comfortable about that room.<\/p>\n
"Mom, you can't stay like this."<\/p>\n
She squeezed my wrist.<\/p>\n
"Please, Connie."<\/p>\n
Her eyes were tired.<\/p>\n
"Don't make things harder for Pam."<\/p>\n
I wanted to ask more questions.<\/p>\n
I wanted to show her the delivery ticket.<\/p>\n
I wanted to know why only 200 gallons had been purchased.<\/p>\n
But she was eighty-two.<\/p>\n
It was almost midnight.<\/p>\n
And the temperature inside the farmhouse was still falling.<\/p>\n
I decided that the questions could wait.<\/p>\n
Getting Mom warm could not.<\/p>\n
Source: kaylestore.net<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n Before I explain what happened next, I need to explain how our family handled Mom's propane. My name is Connie Weber. I was fifty-four years old at the time. I … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":10896,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10898","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-sharestory"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10898","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=10898"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10898\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10910,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10898\/revisions\/10910"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/10896"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=10898"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=10898"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/onesharedstory.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=10898"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nClick here to continue reading: PART 3: I Found an Almost Empty Tank, a Sleeping Mother, and an Old Receipt, So I Made a Decision My Sister Would Never Expect<\/a><\/strong><\/h2>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"