Stretched

My foster father Ray is dying. In a nursing home in a small city in northern California. He is demented and cancer-ridden. He started hospice yesterday.

I am planning to fly out there on Wednesday. His (much younger, half) sister Colleen is discouraging the trip. He probably sexually abused her two daughters -- certainly took pictures of them in their panties when they were in elementary school, which some would already consider abuse. I think Colleen was present, though. (Fuck the seventies.)

Marina left Ricky a few weeks ago -- and good for her, but he is falling apart. She waited until he'd paid off his multiyear debt consolidation loan, then disappeared, with all her stuff, while he was at work. She's living in Queens, presumably with friends. I have refused to give him money to pay his rent. I am sort of seriously considering going to New York and breaking into the apartment while he's out driving his taxi (70 hours per week) to save -- no, to take, they're his according to the will -- the family pictures: little miniatures on porcelain of my grandmother's grandparents, and of her as an infant; photo albums from when her family was rich.

Comments

[Emma Jane]

Good Lord, does modern comment spam suck. (Well, I can't even call it modern; I think Typepad cut off access after my credit card expired.)

[Jody]

I'm so sorry. I hope your trip goes as smoothly as possible.

[ivfcycler]

Whoa. I am sorry that almost every time I have the pleasure of seeing a new post it is because something stressful or awful is happening in your life.

but does the new blog name mean you are promoted to full?

[thalia]

Emma-Jane, as usual when you are posting here you have a lot to deal with. For what it's worth, you always seem like you are well able to express what went on in your family and create pretty sensible strategies for continuing to deal with it. I can imagine it's incredibly tough, but you will get through this.

[Jacquie]

Ugh. Good to hear from you but so sorry about the circumstances.