I keep finding myself wishing that you were just in town, or took a trip down south leaving me here to take care of dad until you get home.  I think that is the only way I have managed to hang on how I have.  I don’t think the others realize just how difficult it is for me, forcing myself to stay strong because of dad, unable to let the reality of everything fully sink in during the few hours that they are here to watch dad for me, because I know that if I did – I would not be able to stop crying any time soon.

We knew that we were counting the days that we had left with dad, but me and you had planned for you to live at least another 10 to 20 years — now… I wish you could just walk back in the back door, that the Wookie’s loyal waiting would prove to not be in vain and you would walk into the house from a long trip down south.I have found myself envying him more than a few times as he lay on the dining room floor staring sadly at the back door waiting for you to come through it once again.  I don’t want to know that you’ll never come home again.  I want to be as unaware of the truth of things as your little dog.  Loyally keeping things going until you get home, and laying watching the door, jumping up at every car I hear, waiting for you to come back home.

I have to remind myself that you and I are the strong ones, that we are the ones that can take what life throws at us and go on – survive.  What is going to happen if something happens to dad though?  Me and you had planned on having the house at least half paid back off before anything happened to you, now — what happens if I am left here with $150,000.00 to pay back suddenly coming due in full?  There is no hope that any bank will ever give me any kind of financing on picking up the mortgage on this place.  I spent my entire life taking care of you and dad and have nothing to show for it.  No work history, no Social Security to speak of – I think I have less than $100 in social security from when I was in Job Corps and the couple of months I worked at Burger King when I was 18.

We had talked about you getting life insurance, but… that was just a couple of days before…. I wanted to cry when I saw the envelope sitting beside your bed, your handwritting across it “READ”.  We were too late.  A few more days, a week…. maybe then we would have been better prepared, but now… what am I going to do?  Dad has a history of heart disease and stroke.  The small insurnce deal he has from the Army is only enough to pay funeral expenses one day… hell, I still have not paid the funeral guy the near $2,500 I owe him for you.  How the hell am I supposed to come up with the money I need to save you and dad’s home?

I just want to throttle those damn mortgage companies.  Why couldn’t the government have bailed out my siblings and neice the way they are the megga corporations?  Then you and I would not have been forced to get that damn reverse mortgage and I would not be looking at the cold fact that I’m going to lose you and dad’s home one day.  This was supposed to be the place I could grow old, my payment for having set my own life aside and taken care of you and dad.  Now… all I can do is cry, and it’s not even in mourning you, because I can’t let myself fall into that bottomless chasm.  My tears are from the impossibility that lies before me in trying to save your house with no way to do it.

What am I going to do?  I know I already said this, mom, but oh how I wish you were only on a long trip down south and would come home any day now.  I miss you, and I am not sure what to do.