Bitter Thoughts on Family and Obligation
There have been periods in my life where I felt everybody depended on me - one of the most undependable people ever. I was the only developer for a company that sold software. If I failed, everybody would lose their jobs. I was the primary breadwinner in my family. If I failed, we could end up homeless. The kids needed me emotionally. The house needed cleaning, meals needed cooking. At no point, did I feel I could relax and somebody would pick up the things I was unable to do.
As my youngest kids neared high school graduation, I formulated a five year plan in my head. I was going to leave my husband. I was going to be a digital nomad, and either live in a van or travel the world with just a single backpack. I just needed a moment in my life where the only person who depended on me was ME.
About a year before my youngest graduated, my son crashed his car into a telephone pole - for the second time. The first time, the pole fell on the roof of his car, but he walked away with just a wound on his tongue, where he had bitten it. The second time, he was in a convertible. The impact with the pole made the roof fly off, and hit my son's head as it went.
That happened Thanksgiving weekend. I spent the next five months trying to spend every possible minute with him at the hospital, while still working full time, and trying to spend at least an hour a day with my younger daughters.
My husband at the time spent those same five months napping in his recliner in front of the television. The Thanksgiving decorations were still out when I finally admitted that my son was not going to be able to live on his own, and I packed up his apartment and brought home as much as I possibly could to our own small place.
I remember my husband looking up from his nap as I walked in with another load of my son's things, and asking me where I was going to put it all. That was the moment I broke. I looked at those stupid Thanksgiving decorations that he couldn't even manage to put away, and I lost my shit.
Two weeks later, I had moved my husband out of my house and into my son's old apartment. I didn't divorce him - he still needed my health coverage. I paid a portion of his rent each month, and helped get him moved to his new place.
A month later, my son came home. I put his hospital bed in my room so I could hear if he woke up and tried to get out of bed. His brain injury left him unable to walk, speak, eat solid food, or even use the toilet on his own. But, it also left him not understanding what was going on, so one of his favorite tricks was to try to slide out of his wheelchair or bed. He thought it was funny as hell.
Six months later, doctors diagnosed my husband with terminal lung cancer. The social worker at the hospital and my husband's family were all furious with me when I told them I could not take home a man who weighed almost 400 pounds and be his caretaker too. We were separated, and I had more than enough to handle with my son.
Six months after that, my husband died alone in a nursing home. I still feel overwhelming guilt over that, but also a lot of anger. Why was I always the one responsible for taking care of everybody?
My son has learned to walk and talk again. He and I still live together, and it is mostly good. But, his sisters don't like being around him. Some of it is that his brain injury makes them uncomfortable. Some of it is just the usual family stuff. But, I'm on my own when it comes to his care.
When you're a mother, you're not supposed to resent your children. Mothers are supposed to be unselfish and put their family first. So, we learn to keep our mouths shut. The funny thing is, if you browse Reddit, you see all sorts of young people talking about how it's not their job to care for their parents or their disabled siblings. They have their own lives to live. And, the Reddit mob wholeheartedly agrees and tell them that they didn't ask to be born. They should run away and not look back. Mothers don't get that choice.
I worry about what will happen to my son when I die. There's no way for me to save enough for my own retirement - much less enough money for his lifetime. The disability payment he gets is nowhere near enough to live on. The rest of the family feels no obligation to care for him. This is what I resent most of all.
I did manage to change jobs. I left that company and went somewhere where I'm not the lone developer anymore. The former company is imploding, which doesn't help get rid of my beliefs that if I don't handle things myself, everything will fall apart.
Most days, I'm fine - content even. But today is not one of those days.