The Worst Part of Moving

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.

Comments

[Orangecountygal]

Wow! I wondered what was coming out from all that key pounding! You're very eloquent writer.

[Sam Woodfin]

Oops! Didn't realize I was pounding! Sorry about that!

Oh, and thank you, too, Orangecountygal!

[Patty Gadberry]

It is very upsetting to know that I will probably never see Aunt D. again.
Sam, I wish you could understand how hurtful some of your comments are and how all inclusive they sound to others.
You say that you don’t blame anything on the family other than not calling Aunt D. I never failed to take the time to talk to her on the phone any time we (you and I) were talking to each other, regardless of which one of us made the call.
No, I didn’t call a lot in the last several months but you know the reason. I did tell you on numerous occasions that you could call me any time.
I did try to help you guys when I could. Others would have also if the situation would have permitted them to do so. (I speak of physical help, not monetary.) Alan Gene comes to mind. You know he would have done anything he could to help Aunt D.
And how many times did you insist that if Aunt D. told me or Mom that you guys needed food that it was not the case, and that you were o.k.? You know that Mom would never have let her sister be cold and hungry if she knew that it was happening.
Sam, none of us had the financial wherewithal to completely support you guys.
There was other help that you could have gotten, but you know as well as I do why you could not avail yourself of that help. (The same reason a lot of others, including Mom, could not come and visit Aunt D.)
Now whose fault is it that Aunt D. was bored and lonely?
I realize that you will probably never want to talk to me again and that I will join the ranks with Michael in your permanent state of pissed. But I really don’t think you cared one whit anyway. It seems to be your goal to alienate everyone who cared about you and Aunt D.
I still say you know my phone number if you need anything or just to talk. But I will not be the one to make that call. That’s up to you.

[Sam Woodfin]

Pat, I'm not complaining about lack of help. I'm complaining about people who weren't there, who don't understand what was going on, who weren't a part of helping me help her, then trying to keep me from doing what I needed to do. You need to read this post in context. If anyone else was there on a daily basis, dealing with what she's going through, then yeah, maybe they'd have some say in whether or not we should have made this trip. But since -- for the grand majority of the time -- it was just me, it's also my decision. If everyone had respected that, this post would never have happened.

How many times did I ask you, personally, to call Mom? Do you remember what your answer was? Or what would happen when she'd call you?

I'm not dead-set on never talking to you (or Michael, for that matter), again. If I were, I would've already unfriended you. More importantly, I STILL wish to hell you'd call Mom, whether you want to talk to me, or not. If you're actually concerned about her, for God's sake, talk to her!

[Patty Gadberry]

Sam,
I am sorry for anything I said here publicly that was hurtful to you.
It was uncalled for.
Love ya
Patty

[Sam Woodfin]

Love you, too, Pat.

I can delete both my comments and yours, if you want me to.