Getting to Orange, California, from Advance, Missouri, wasn't the easiest thing I've ever done. I'm not a good driver. I panic behind the wheel. I can't see very well at night. I got lost over and over again. But this trip could've been made easier, not just by improving my driving skills, vision, and sense of direction, but by certain people being more supportive.
Or at least not being dicks.
Our first stop was in Arkansas to visit with some friends. One of them, I've known since 2nd grade. We came out together when we were both 17, and have lived together on a couple of occasions. I had talked to him on the phone before we left, and I knew that he wasn't keen on the notion of us moving to California. And that was OK. Neither of us requires approval from the other to make life decisions.
But our second night at his house, the night before we were supposed to leave, my friend decided to try to bully me into staying with him. He and his partner had offered to let us stay with them, to help with Mom, and to help us get on our feet in Arkansas. But the way that night went down is a prime example of why I couldn't take them up on their offer.
A few drinks, and very little conversation, into the evening, my friend decided to play what he saw as his trump card. He told me that we couldn't leave. He told me that, if I left, I couldn't take my mom and my dog (whom he also urged me to have put down) with me. He threatened to have me charged with endangering the elderly. We were up 'til 4 o'clock in the morning -- Mom included -- arguing about the whole thing. She was more agitated than I've seen her in years. She made him cry.
What he doesn't know is that she cried about it, too, once we finally got to bed that morning. She was still upset about it days later, when we left Albuquerque, 'though I think it may have slipped her mind somewhere between Tucson and Orange.
I, however, am still pissed off about it. I think it may be a permanent state. And the thing that bothers me most about it isn't really that he tried to keep me from making this move. It's more that he was nowhere to be found when we were sitting in that trailer, cold and hungry; when I was overextended, trying to take care of Mom and Jerry, with no regular help and no transportation; when Mom was constantly bored and lonely. That was apparently OK with him. But as soon as I try to make a positive change for my family? No. That, apparently, is irresponsible.
To make it worse, he isn't alone. There are quite a few people who are suddenly concerned about Mom, even though they couldn't be bothered to even pick up the phone and talk to her every now and then while we were still there. There are others who cry, now, every time they talk to me, despite rarely calling or stopping by while we were still there. And others, still, who seem to have lost interest in communicating, at all.
I don't really have a strong conclusive paragraph for this post. I'm venting, more than anything. But I will say this: I've had more practical help with Mom and with Jerry -- on a regular basis -- since we've been between homes than I ever had while we were settled in Advance, surrounded by friends and family. Sure, there is an undercurrent of fear about where we're going to live, and how we're going to support ourselves, but for those of you who didn't notice: That fear didn't start once we left.
We've lived with that for a long time.
It's actually better now that we've left.
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