No one will be offended by this analogy, I’m sure.
Last spring (though I have lost track of so much of this year), when the gop put out the first ACA repeal attempt, it seemed the entire list of gop-ers we were calling turned off their phones, their faxes, their email addresses. On Facebook came a share, to this effect: “Ok, Paul Ryon has gone radio silent. Here is his home address. Everyone send him a post card timed to arrive on Monday. Let’s have a hundred thousand post cards dumped on the end of his driveway.”
Mine was included.
I have struggled through a personal problem this summer, and I was as transparent as, well, a sheet of glass. There is a universe, though, and this week it has been sending really good stuff my way. Did you all get together and arrange a world-wide mail date? Thank you. We are burning up the return postal system with all Laura’s left over little round international thank you stamps. Back from her attempted international pen pal days. Thank you, thank you, and thank you.
The problem is coming to resolution. For the last two years more than a couple of friends have said, “This is none of my business, and tell me to shut up if I’m out of line, but, have you made plans for Laura?” Past changing a toxic environment and following her path to recovery, no, I haven’t.
The Red Bus business scared the bejammers out of me, when I was collected enough to think it through. There was dead and more to consider. Then, an incident this summer, in which the three family members on whom I might rely told me they would not have her. And half the time I couldn’t think clearly, on top of it.
I thought about her art teacher, Mrs. P. But Mrs. P. is moving house and starting her last one in college and all that stuff, and Laura only has two high school years left and I’ll be here and etcetcetc. My best friends are states away. Ann and I talked and Carol and I talked, and really had nothing more to say on the subject except we hoped I’d figure it out.
Then Laura smashed the car and Kay lent me one for two weeks. I helped Kay switch around her plethora of cars, and told her my dilemma on one of our rides. When I finally paid attention, I realized Kay was saying, over and over, “I’ll take her.” Laura, of course, was in complete agreement with that, and I called my daughter to tell her what I was planning, too.
Well, that backfired. I listened patiently, but ended the call when I was informed I was the villain who cut off Laura from all contact with the family. That was pretty much the last straw, and definitely the end of the conversation, toward the end of last week.
So, my sister bought a new house, which I knew. Saturday night I took a last look at Facebook, and read my sister thanking, by name, everyone of the family who helped her and Tom move in Saturday. My daughter, Laura’s mother. Bekka, Hamilton, Emily, Laura’s siblings, two of whom were my wards their high school years. I had no idea Saturday was moving day. No one called and asked if Laura could join the moving party. I stared at the screen a long time, and turned it off.
It is what it is. And, the postman filled my mail box this week with cards and letters and little presents. You guys are wonderful!
And, P.S., I saw Mrs. P. downtown today, and told her my solution.
“You know I would have Laura in a minute!”
“And, you’re my first back-up. But, I’ll still be here.”