Time moves along

I have learned a new life lesson. Life must continue through death, as painful as it is. Baggy Pants went to switch his MD driving permit to his Ga one. He is grieving terribly. He always comes in my room, which I must admit is a pretty cool room, when I come home from work, kisses my cheek and we sit on my bed and eat together and talk for a few. I am learning that everyone mourns differently. Except my mother. She suffers from mental illness. I am aware of this and so is J and we just deal with her the best we can. She shares this house with me. She has always been a hypochondriac. I detect jealousy. She is 65, alone and friendless. Just the facts folks. It is a situation she has created. All I ask from the people I live with is to respect my privacy and space, especially now. She is already trying to marry me off. I find that offensive, but I tell myself, "She is a fruit loop" and just ignore those comments. I believe stress can cause internal sickness. I do what I can to eliminate stress. Work is my outlet. So my goal now is to focus on my youngest and help make him the man that my father and Kenny helped shape. My eldest, the recovering addict, is flying up to Baltimore to get his girlfriend. That was his downfall last time. I have been through his bullshit before so we shall see. He still wears the blinders of youth. That feeling of being invincible. He is not welcome in my home unless he is clean. J would love to see his older brother, and doesn't judge him. All he ever asked from his brother is that if he did come by our old house to please not shoot dope so openely. He said this is our home and give us that respect. I pray daily for Jason that he doesn't wind back up on I-95 panhandling his way back down south. My home is about peace and quiet and serentiy. I must protect that for my sanity and my son and yeah, even nutty mom. Active addicts wreak havoc and leave a trail of disaster behind them. I can no longer handle the bullshit. So that is where I am at today. Working full time, being miserly with my money as you don't get widow's benefits till you are 60. I am now the sole provider for my son and I. I sent out thank you cards to many people in the community who offered so much Southern Hospitality. My main thank you was to the EMT's who worked so hard to save a dying man. I was treated with so much dignity and respect, which never would have happened in Baltimore. I will not hold my youngest son hostage, but I will help him make a game plan that can help him accomplish his goals. He is smart enough to understand he has to take things in steps to get where he wants to be in his future. That is where I stand as of today. The sun is rising and the dog is giving me that look, "Let's go walk". That animal has honestly been my best source of comfort. We talk, he listens, and he in my heart understands. With every lick on my cheek, to the doggie smile I see when he is happy that is a wonderful source of comfort. Time to get ready for the weekend work grind. Be blessed, be happy and behave...

Peace..Susan