Proclamations & Confessions

I'm cycling through so many emotions that I'm almost scared. My stepfather has left my mother and nephew. Which means they are about to be homeless. Everything is pretty much taken care of for January, but next month would be a challenge. My mom doesn't have an income, but she has a little money in the bank. If she tried to stay and cover the bills herself, it'll be gone in less than a year.

Not to mention her truck is on its last leg. At 250K miles, she was looking forward to getting another one soon since my stepdad is tired of poring money (and time) into it. But it's not the money exactly. I've been encouraging my mother to apply for disability. Although she qualifies she's resisted on principle. She has COPD and at her last appointment, her lung capacity was only like 45% or something. So she probably could get a small stipend each month. And she'll be 60 in September, so she'll qualify for senior housing then. (Zak would have to stay with us though.) Medicare isn't an option till 65, so if she had disability it would also take care of health insurance too. She desperately needs it. I don't want to be graphic, but her uterus is falling out. I didn't even know that could happen, but it's terrifying to think about. We don't have any other family to help. My mom has a couple of aunts out there somewhere, but they've got to be 70. My uncle, my mom's brother, has been out of her life since we found out he's a sex offender. Her sister has been a homeless drug addict since my grandparents died a few years ago. (She's always been an addict, my grandparents just let her live there and ignored it.) I have two cousins, both younger. One is serving 20 years and the other is off getting his Doctorate. At least someone in this family has done something good. (I'm extremely proud of AJ.)

Technically we have the room. Our new place is 3 bedroom, but my husband took the smallest for his man cave. I am absofuckinglutely not asking him to give it up no matter what. The back of the house used to be a screened-in porch. It's been enclosed and added on to the kitchen as a big laundry area, so I thought I'd take it over with all my craft supplies and business crap. I've been needing more room and just my own space for some time. I seriously, I could cry at the thought of losing it. Ravyn took the upstairs, which is more like a studio apartment. She could share if needed and wouldn't complain too much. If we throw up a room divider, we could throw a full-sized bed in it and still have space. The old front porch was added to the living room, so it's pretty big. We've got part sectioned off for a dining area. We could put up a partition or something and throw a bed over there. It might be kind of ghetto, but it's not like anyone would know. (Besides the whole 3 people that will read this entry

So there's a very big possibility that she would only need to stay with us for a year. We could make room for her and she could take care of her and Zak's expenses. But...

I know this sounds awful, but I don't want them moving in with us. Hell, I've been trying to move away from her for the past three years! I'm embarrassed to go into details about our relationship[, but suffice it to say we don't have the best history. We have a blow up twice a year and I end up not speaking to her for a month or two. Honestly, I wish I could just walk away. Zak, who has Asperger's & Marfan's, still has a year or two before he graduates high school. (Homeschool) He'll be 18 in two weeks and she's been trying to find health insurance for him since he has so many health issues. That boy has been spoiled and sheltered for so long that I don't think it can be undone. And oh my gosh, she has four dogs that are spoiled beyond belief. They're chihuahua mixes and bark like they're being invaded when someone walks by the house, they see a cat, they see a bird, you get the picture. My Trixie barks when someone knocks at the door, which is rare, so we're always in a state of shock when we visit my mother and her pack tries to bolt out the front door as we try to walk inside. There's no way in Hell she could have them all here. Maybe one.

So here I am, right back to where I started. What kind of person contemplates walking away from their mother when she's in such a predicament?
This one.
But could I live with myself?
Possibly.
I suppose that's what it boils down to in the end. What choice can I make that would still allow me to live with myself.
I guess that's something I need to have a little chat about with God.