Jesse turned thirty, yesterday. A year ago, it was hard to believe that he was twenty-nine, but thirty wasn’t so hard. We have both aged so much in this past year that it’s hard to remember when he was “young.” Even harder to remember than my own youth.
When I was Jesse’s age, he was missing, and I was searching for him. That’s how long it has been, since he has seemed young. He came back far older than the three years he was gone, and even though he was immature, he seemed tired, ready to quit. Quit what, you might ask…
Just quit everything. He had no trust, no hope. He was, to others, a shell which used to contain a boy. To me, he was more, though. He was an old man I’d given birth to.
So smart, he was. He watched me marry a man I foolishly thought I could be happy with, and he watched that marriage flounder and fail. He was my rock, when my mother died, when my brother took his own life, and even when our cats died. He had never let anyone get as close to him as he did our Eve, and her death consumed him. He knew it was time; she was very old. He could have, should have, reached out to me for help. Instead, he was there for me in my pain.
His pain, he kept inside. When it got to be too much, he took a razor to his skin to release it. It poured out of him at times, but only enough to distract him from the hurt. Never enough to end it.
He struggled against a drug addiction, once he realized it would kill him. He struggled with alcohol, too. He fought them on his own, and he won.
He struggled in every relationship he ever had. His first girlfriend turned on him when her father frowned upon their biracial relationship and threatened to cut her out of the family. His dearest friend, a young woman he was in love with since high school, shared from a distance the grief of losing a mutual friend to a drug overdose, and then turned to someone else to ease her pain, leaving Jesse alone to deal with his.
He didn’t trust anyone, but he tried. He tried so hard to believe that good was to come of all of his pain. And each time he gave just a bit more than he was comfortable giving, the recipient snatched it away from him and ran.
Two years ago, he was alone, rejected by all but me. It was “his fault.” He didn’t know how to be a part of a family, and the family he was a part of, did not understand that he didn’t know how. They just held it against him, and turned their backs on him.
He came to Florida to be near me, and again, he crashed and burned. He lost his job because he’d again decided to release the pain with a razor. He lost his home because he had lost his job, and he lost his car because he had lost his home, and…
He spent ten months “homeless,” living in one dark hotel room or another, consumed by guilt and accountability and his lack of trust. He lost all faith in “the system” as he ran into red tape and bureaucracies of every shape and form. Food stamps, unemployment… he reached out for mental help and was told that, because he could function on his own, he did not qualify for help.
He could have gotten help, if only he would have succumbed when the “friends” around him offered him crack cocaine, pot and alcohol. Instead, he’d had the good sense to remove himself from the temptation, and it cost him the help he needed.
An answer came, in the form of his Aunt Lily, who offered to fly him to Montana and give him shelter from the seemingly endless storm of misfortune. He left, two weeks ago, embarking on another leg of his journey to find safety. He slept, for the first time in months. He was able to eat healthy foods and to be around someone who loved him. He even began to open up to her; something we had not dared to hope for.
And just when we thought he was safe…
Lily, my miracle-making sister, was told last week that in order to continue working for the federal government (as she has for twenty years or so) she needs to give up her life and move to a small town in Idaho. Within one month, no less. She can opt not to go… and to join the ranks of our nation’s unemployed (along with Jesse) or she can give up her home, her friends, her church, her life as she knows it, and keep a paycheck.
I’m sorry; it’s just not fair. I’ve spent the past year trying to believe that there was hope for Jesse. Now, I don’t even know if my also-beloved sister will survive. She is dangerously overweight, suffers from depression, and has multiple serious health problems. She is only four years younger than my mother was when she was taken, too soon.
I can’t give Lily what she needs. I want to; I will try to; but she is so overcome by this news that she isn’t functioning. Instead, she is eating. Half a cheesecake for breakfast. Two pieces of pizza in the middle of the night. The two that she did not eat, for dinner.
Lily has been "my mother" for longer than my mother held that title, in life. She has pulled me through so many crises that I can’t imagine my life without her, and things aren’t looking good. She and Jesse, together, represent most of what I love in this life. And both of them are now teetering on the edge of something I can’t pull them out of.
Please, if you would, keep them in your prayers.
Thank you.
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Comments: 34
I am sorry to here of your problems. They sure seem to be piling up. Damn, there really isn't much that one can say.
Hugs
George
I know, George. Thanks for saying something, though.
The language doesn't have enough words for love and it doesn't have enough words for sorry or sorrow.
Hugs,
George
Oh Julie,
Huge Hugs to you. Of course you have my prayers and thoughts for *all* of you! It's just NOT FAIR, is what's going through my mind over and over. It really isn't.
I'll be here for you - as much as an online friend can...
Marilyn
Marilyn, that means a lot to me. And I keep reminding myself that no one said life would be fair, but so far, it isn't helping.
I will gladly keep both of them in my prayers......you have a very heavy burden to bear right now and I know it must be really difficult for you. I will say a special prayer for you and I truly hope things work out for everyone involved......hugs!
Thank you, Sandra. I learned of it last night and bottled it up, myself because my husband was packing to leave for a business trip. I didn't dare tell him and worry him, too. I decided to write about it, instead, and it hit me hard, as I did.
Oh, honey... when it rains, it pours! I have moved so much in the past 33 years (military and such) that I look at each new place as a potential to meet new wonderful possibilities.
Have your sister realize that God is just opening another door for her! Is she taking your son with her?
I don't know, Carrie. She held all of this in for a week, until it came pouring out last night. She is devastated. I tried to tell her to look at it as new possibilities, and she says she could do that, if only she had been given any choice in the matter. I'm not sure my son would go, but I'm also not sure what other choice he has.
I, also, have moved way too many times... and I've always found a "home" where I moved. But she is so settled there, she doesn't know how to do that.
My goodness, tragedy after tragedy is so hard to handle. My prayers are with you and yours during these very tough times.
Thanks, Stacey. I'm hoping that soon, I will feel like I am in a better place, and maybe then I will be able to help them more.
Oh hell! I'm sorry!
I hope it works out for both of them... perhaps if he does go with her, he could help her to make the transition - it might help if she has more than just herself to worry about.
I've thought of that, too, flit. I hope you're right. I wouldn't blame him, if it makes him more cynical than he already is, though. He's really come through this last year seeming less jaded than I would have expected, and is far less depressed than he was not long ago. I don't think my sister had broken this news to him yet.
I am so sorry - what unfortunate timing for both of them. I will definitely pray for all of you. I am also one who puts down deep roots, and I am here to say, When God finally forces me out of the nest and leaves me no other chocie but to move on, He always has wonderful things waiting for me in my new little "place". I will pray this for Jesse and Lily.
I am praying for the same thing. I hope Jesse will go with her, and I believe that despite the fact that it feels like terrible timing, it may be just exactly the best thing for both of them.
This is so sad. I am sorry that I didn't get to read this earlier. The situation your sister is in just sucks. And its happening at an alarming rate all over. I will surely keep them both in my prayers. Can your sister qualify for disability? My mother did when she was very overweight and had health issues. Perhaps she can look into that... I for one, would not give up my life for a job. I guess that is totally up to her, but it was very wrong for them to ask her to do that. I cannot even imagine. People in my company are being told that if they want to be kept employed by them, they have to move to India, China, Brazil, ect, and work at the wages for those locations. Unreal. And they are getting away with it all over.
I'm so sorry Julie. {{{HUGS}}}
Honestly, after all Jesse has been through in the last year with the unemployment, I should hope my sister will realize how lucky she is, that she still does have the choice to have a job.
She could probably qualify for disability, except that the work she does is sitting at a desk and requires no activity. Plus, she would probably be even more depressed if she did that.
I'm just catching up, and I'm so sorry there is more stress. As a person who because of my husband's job, has had to move several times "to keep the paycheck," I do understand her fears and stress about giving up everything. I have actually found, until my last move 6 years ago, that I could look back and know that I was better for the move. It was hard, and sad and starting over isn't any fun at all-but, in some ways it is good to be forced to start fresh sometimes. My last move was the hardest, but there were so many other things happening at the same time, that I can't blame the move alone. Maybe, Jesse can go with your sister and help her through this time of change for her. Maybe, the 2 of them together, starting over could be a positive thing. Maybe if she knows she will be meeting new people, she will watch her weight and health and therefore improve her life. Sometimes there is a rainbow you know.
Sue, I have moved more times than I can count. Literally, I think. And I agree. Actually, some of the moves I dreaded the most were the ones which ended up making me better, and happier. My sister is not me, though I agree... if she accepts that it might be good for her, she will begin taking better care of herself. I've seen that happen before, and I know that it CAN happen and will, if she lets it.
Reading this, I wonder why this was the "best" place for Jesse. I think he needs to be around stable people. I know this sounds callous, Julie, and you know that my intention is simply to think this through, with you, as if I was sitting next to you, talking.
Sounds to me like she has to go. As difficult as it is, Julie, she is a grown woman. You can lead her to water, but you cannot make her drink. Her life, and health, are hers to won.
If Jesse likes where he is, hopefully he will look around and find work.
I will keep both in my heart and thoughts. Please keep us updated.
The idea when he went there, J M, was that he could help her with things she needed done, giving him a sense of accomplishment. That has been the case. My sister is "stable," or was, until this job thing came up. The problem is that she internalizes everything. She was the only one in the office who is being forced to move, and so she feels let down by the rest. She does need to go, and she knows that as well as I do. But being forced to make such a change is what is difficult.
I honestly think it (the move) may be good for her... IF she can begin looking forward to it instead of feeling so betrayed. I worry about her health, because she is simply refusing to take care of herself since hearing that news. After watching how my mother did that to herself for so many years, I know where she is heading if she doesn't begin to care.
Well, maybe helping her through this will be good for Jesse. Sometimes change IS the best thing and I hope, for her, it will be.
xxx's
Thanks, J M. Love you!
I love you too, Julie, and you have my unconditional support.
So sorry to hear there are more problems in your family.
Thanks, Marianne. We will get through it.
I am so very sorry to hear all this. Sending prayers that it all works out for the best for both of them.
Attitude really does make a difference at a time like this. If she and Jesse can approach it as a new opportunity they might even find it somewhat exciting. As you said, at least she still has a job if she decides to move. It's too bad that she has been put in that position though, where she feels she has very little choice.
I know, Marge. I hope she does start seeing it as a new opportunity. Just think of all the new friends she can make! And for the record, she is a very social person when she's happy, and meeting new people makes her happy... so it seems like a win-win situation. If only...
I am so sorry to read this. I am hoping and praying that both Lilly and Jessie find their way safely through this newest ordeal. {{HUGS}}
Julie, your pain is the measure of your very great love. If only we had a bit of control...so hard to wait and watch and wonder what will be. Yes, I will pray and send my best love and intentions.
Any more news on your sister and Jesse? Still praying it's good news.