I gave up my
and gave it to my
She is not a bad kid, not at all. She is talented and funny, the most sarcastic and sassy little firecracker you ever met. She is a hurricane wrapped in softness.
Video games and DVDs began to go missing. At the neighbor’s house, she said. Empty cigarette boxes piled up in her room. Out at all hours of the night. Sleeping until well into the next evening. Maybe tomorrow she will look for a job. The car would move from one spot to another. Someone needed a jump start. Half a tank of gas missing, no answer this time, no excuse.
So I offered a choice: the spare car key she has been using to sneak the use of a car that she is not licensed to drive, or her house key and I would give her my car key and the title.
She packed her things.
She is only eighteen. Older than I was when I left home for the first time, in my own car, everything I loved stuffed into the backseat and trunk. I was pregnant at the time, and soon homeless, living in that car in the middle of a cold winter.
Our only means of freedom, getting groceries, running errands, was that car. Being homeless forever scarred me, I always liked to maintain at least one vehicle, even if not running, for back up housing. That assurance and our freedom is now gone.
I just could not handle the lies anymore. I could not carry the stress she kept putting on me, the worry of the late nights, the missing things, the bills she fell further and further behind on.
It could not have been easy for her living here, with two disabled people. Perhaps it was this place, this environment, that drug her down. Hopefully a nudge can get her going in the right direction.
I told her I loved her, that she is welcome back if she decides she can contribute in some way, if she gets pregnant, if she has nowhere else and it is too cold outside.
I love her absolutely.
She is the most beautiful thing I have ever made.
I hope this is the right thing for her.
My daughter has gone out into the world. She is better equipped to handle it than I am. She is a hurricane.