Dear God, Make Me A Bird…………
November 26, 2007
Remember that part in “Forrest Gump” where Jenny prays to God saying, “dear God, make me a bird, so I can fly far, far far away”? The youngster says this prayer repeatedly, while pining for a better life than her abusive, drunk father can provide for her. Right now, I feel like Jenny.
J’s older daughter, her boyfriend and her 4 year old son have recently returned from Ohio. They moved there on a whim, and lived there for 2 months with another family. Things went south, as they often do with un-related families living together, and they are now back in Illinois, flat broke, staying with one of her relatives about an hour from us. His daughter wants to eventually settle in around where we live, so her “grandma” that she is staying with recommended she and her boyfriend come stay with us for a few weeks in order to look for jobs in our area. She gave them transportation to use, and offered to watch the kid for a few weeks. All that was left was for us to agree to grant them the use of our house.
I feel like I was put on the spot, in a major way, by her grandma. It was a case where I didn’t want to say yes, but I knew that as a step-mom and a Christian, I couldn’t say no. I feel sorry for them, but they brought all of this upon themselves. She refuses to keep a job, and when they do have money they spend it on gambling, junk food and restaurant dining. All things I don’t or rarely spend money on because I prefer to have a roof over my head. She is only 5 years younger than me, and the boyfriend is older than me. There’s also a shaky history involved. Without going into too much detail, she tried her darndest to make sure the first 5 years J and I were together were miserable by starting rumors of adultrey, calling me horrid names, to my face, and having other women call our house to hit on J. This was all after we were married.
Eventually my Christian morals won out, and they are taking up residence later this week. Thank God I finally got on some anxiety meds.
It’s going to be a big change, for all of us. I’m having to kick one of my kids out of their room. I’ll have to feed 2 more adults. I’ll have their crap strowed all over the house. For someone with OCD, it’s very dramatic.
They said 2 weeks, but I know there’s no possible way they can be on their feet that soon. Neither of them have jobs, and they have no money. I told J that if it lasts longer than a month, one of two things will happen. A: We wind up in divorce court. B: Someone leaves in a body bag. I am sick over this whole thing. I feel like a black cloud is following me around, and they haven’t even gotten here yet, but I
know keep telling myself that I’m doing the right thing.
Last night we were on the way home from Illinois and it was pouring down rain. We were within a mile of home when a tire blew on our minivan. This morning J was on the way to work, stopped behind some traffic, when a teenager (who we know) rear-ended his truck. Hard. This resulted in him hitting the dash with his knee, which is already in need of replacing. He was taken by ambulance to the hospital, and her car was totaled. He’s been released, and will be off work for a few days.
I’m scared to ask God what else he intends to throw on us, so I’ll just ask him to “make me a bird, so I can fly far, far far away”.