A helping hand.

On November 2nd 2013 I sat across from my ex-husband.
We were discussing his lack of presence in our daughter life.

Me? I could care less. As far as I am concerned..I got this.
I do not require, nor for that matter, do I care for help in the raising of my children.

The time for that has long since passed.

But my daughter.

My brilliant, funny, quirky daughter.

She might feel otherwise.

And when you become the parent of a child, you must always put their needs above your own.
Sometimes that shit is just plain fucked up. Never the less. You do it.

I sat across that man and I looked upon a human being who was a shadow of himself. Of the person that he used to be.
I felt sad for him, but more sad for my daughter.
I know the feeling of disappointment and embarrassment of watching your father fall from grace. From strength.

I have the problem of empathizing with others sorrow. With their despair and sadness. I can feel it just like it is my own. Even when someone answers my question of "What is wrong" with a fake smile and a "Nothing at all." I can feel it still.

I sat across from Chris and was saddened by him.
This was a man who spoiled me. He gave me everything that I wanted in life, including 13 years of raising my children at home.

He had no where to go. He had nothing. He had cashed out his retirement (like a dumbass) a few years prior, despite my pleading with him not too.

This is a man who on paper, is brilliant. He has a genius IQ and low self motivation. He has skills in many areas and I was convinced that he could find a job easily if given time.

I offered him my brick house in the back, "For a short while. We will see how this goes. But keep this in mind. This is a happy place. This is the childrens home. Not yours."

He agreed, thanked me profusely and within 2 days he had moved in.

The first few weeks was fine. He fixed things around the house. That was nice.
But it wasn't what he was there for. He was there to get a job, and get the fuck out.
I reminded him of that, and he replied "I know, I know. I have been looking."

Looking. Is not good enough.
He also had decided that my couch was a perfect place to take up residence, and my daughter, who would once join me in evening TV, was now reading her books in my bedroom.

Emma was uncomfortable. Not okay.

Week 3 and I was not happy. I was not seeing the kind of hustling that is required from someone who has nothing and is trying to get on their feet.

Week 4 ...I found out that he "borrowed 250.00" from Shane with no means of paying him back.
I turned into a vicious beast.
I texted him and asked him about it.

His reply to me was.....enraging.

"I needed to get some things from pawn.
Shane was fine with it."

Oh really?

"SHANE busts his ASS for that money.
You have no RIGHT to ask anything from
him. Get your shit packed. You are done here."

I had to think rationally concerning my daughter.
I had to think 4 steps ahead so that I could take the right steps now.

When I got home, I called an emergency family meeting. I am not one who bad talks the "other" party. I have never, not ever said a word about Shane's Dad. Nor Chris. I view it as a form of child abuse, I really do.

Instead I stated facts. Told the children why I was pissed off and let them know what I wanted to do about it. I asked for their feelings on it and how they would feel if I made Chris leave.

Shane : "Whatever you think is best mom. I mean I am sad for him but. You know. Whatever."

Emma: "I understand how you feel. And If you made him leave, I would be sad for HIM, but not mad with YOU. However I think you should give him one more month to look for a job. Just to see."

I grit my teeth. I bit my lip and I swear to GOD my heart shook.

"Okay.....I do NOT want to do that. I WANT him to leave, But I will do that. For you."

Emma: "Give him 1 more month and if he doesn't find a job them he leaves. That is the deal."

"Agreed." (not happily)

I texted Chris and let him know what the kids had decided.

Emma held my hand and Shane laid his head on me.

Two weeks later. 8:00 am... as Brandee, Shane, Emma and I rushed out the door for work and school I looked over at Chris. Asleep on my couch again.
It was a Friday and I was not even excited for the weekend.
He had two weeks left. This has become my mantra.
The countdown.

When the kids and I got home at 8:00 pm he was still there. I couldn't even tell that he had moved. the next morning I got out of the house early. When Emma and I left he was still asleep on the couch. I sighed deep down. I am pretty sure that the sigh came from the very bowels of my vagina.

That night, Emma and I slept at Brandees.
We finally schlepped home at noon. Chris was asleep on the couch.
And I.JUST.LOST.IT.

"Get up. It is noon. What are you doing today?"

He jumped up and acted frightened.

"Wha...."

"Noon is a little late of a start to go out and look for a job."

"Oh. But it is Sunday."

"NO. It is MY Sunday. It is SHANES Sunday. It is not yours. You have not busted your ass all week working and raising kids. You have 2 weeks left Chris and you leave."

He stood up and acted shaky. He stumbled around and whined "I don't want to be homeless!"

"You already are! This is not your home. It is ours. The only reason YOU are HERE is because of that little girl in there. SHE gave you a shot, and what have you done with it? Slept.
You are sleeping your way to the streets and that is nobody's fault but your own."

One week later and I slipped a note into his laptop. It had the names of the next two people he should ask for help. His best friend and his brother.

He chose his best friend. Karl called some places and hooked him up with a job interview. But as for staying here...time was running out.

How can you help someone who doesn't want to help themselves. Who cannot see the bigger picture and strive to achieve something better for themselves.
The answer to this question my friends, is... You cant.

There is a big difference in being helpful and being taken advantage of.
My month long personal hell was up.
Time for him to go. I kept my end of the deal with the kids. He didn't.

His best friend called me and begged me to let him stay until the end of January. I felt physically sick when he asked me. "This will save him." he pleaded.

I answered with a non committal... "We will see."

It was 2 weeks past the due date.
I texted Chris to let him know that we needed to talk. I told him that he needs to go, that I wish him all the best and that we would talk about it when I got home.

He did not text me back. His best friend called me. He pleaded with me to let him stay "End of January. Beginning of February at the most!"

"February now? Hello no Karl. No."

"But this can change his life!"

"I gave him a home to live in, you are getting him a job. Tell me...what the FUCK is Chris doing?"

I was going to go home and insist that he live out the rest of his time in the brick house. I would give him until February 2nd (that is a month after the deal time) to get on with greyhound.
That is what was in my head. I could deal with 2 more weeks. I could. I could try.

In less then 5 minutes my phone was going crazy. I was still working and as it binged and booped I tried to ignore it while I pulled out playdoh for the kids in the class.

Finally I checked my phone.

Text messages from family and friends. Messages on Facebook and a status update from Chris about being homeless no thanks to his ex-wife. She kicked him out.
I couldn't believe it. I laughed out loud and Nico asked me what was so funny.

I could have HUMILIATED him on his Facebook. I could have pointed out all of his flaws and his sleeping schedules. His addictions and his demons.
But I am better then that.

I stared at his Facebook page and wondered how someone so old could be so immature. Someone who I reached my hand out, to help..could be so thankless.
I pressed the delete button beside his name, and went about playing playdoh with the kids.
Shaking my head every 30 seconds and snorting in disbelief.

I had a family meeting at the dinner table. I told the kids that I was ready for Chris to go. That I had waited the time we agreed upon, and a little after, and  I was done. I told them about my text message and I asked them how they felt.

Emmas answer sealed the deal. "Well. I think you had two kids because you wanted 2 kids...not three. I think you made a good deal, even though you did not want too. And you held up your end. I mean...You helped Aunty, and she had a job within 2 days. So...ya know."

Freedom. Deep breath and a smile.

When we got home that night, he was no where to be seen. His stuff still littered my house and the following day he texted me about coming back. "Fuck no." was my response. And his response to that still makes me shake my head. STILL makes me mutter at the audacity.

His response was "Yeah, I figured as much. Just thought I would give you the opportunity."

Poor choice of words, those.

I ripped his head off via text message and assured him that I would never help him again. The end.

There is a message in this. A reason for this story, a rhyme.
A lyrical sense of Karma and kismet and truth.

To me, the strongest being on the planet is a parent. They should be strength and honor and truth. A safe place to go.

I am sad that Emma had to see her father like that. I am sad that Chris is weak. He always has been. He is a man who is willed forward in life by others, and when someone is not doing the pushing and the fighting for him...he fails. All of his triumphs in his life with me, came from me. His career. His children, this home.

I always hope that each unique situation in our lives teaches my children a life lesson. By helping out my sister and (yes) Chris in the past, And by taking care of Grandpa until he passed. Each person in life, deserves a chance. A safe place to recover. From love or life or death.
I have tried to be that place. I have opened my home and my heart and helped others heal when I could....to provide an outstretched hand.

There is a big difference in  a person who takes that helping hand, pulls themselves up, dusts themselves off and moves forward in life....and the person who takes your hand, and expects you to lead them to salvation.