A Halloween HorrorPosted: November 5, 2009
For Halloween, we decided to dress Bobby up in his costume (super cute giraffe) and bring him over to the homes of a few friends and family members. First on the list was my mom’s place since she picked out and paid for the costume. (Aside; I think next year I’ll start making them).
I’ve never been to the house where she lives now. Some of you may think this is because of my long-standing issues with my mother’s boyfriend, but the real reason is that I’ve never been invited. This is strange because before she lived here, my mom would invite me over all the flippin’ time. I knew something was up and I had my suspicions over time. Turns out, they were correct.
We got to her place and range the door bell. A few a minute her and her BF came to the door and were delighted to see our little giraffe boy. I had to ask if we could actually be let in. A few steps in and it hit me.
The smell of 17 years worth of smoking 2 packs a day without opening a window. A smell so thick that even now I feel it lingering. The smoke smell is so all-consuming that there could have been 5 year old rotting bodies all over the place and I would not have smelled them.
The sight of 17 years worth of collecting any item deemed worthy. Every surface had things on it save for two tiny spots for two butts to sit on the sofa and the kitchen counter. There was a 2 foot path throughout the floor to get from one area to the next. There were old TV’s and Radios that hadn’t worked in DECADES. There were figurines and old photos and glass ceiling lamp covers under the tables. I was shocked. SHOCKED. This is not how my mother lives…. She’s always been so tidy. Annoyingly tidy. She moved into his place. This is not how she lives… Yet now… it is…
She tried to brush it off as a temporary thing but we both knew I wouldn’t believe that. After a couple of minutes I suggested we all go play in the backyard. To get away from the smoke, and the try and forget the horror. My mother looked worried. SHe said we’d have to go through the basement and that ‘it’s a bit messy because we just brought the stuff in from outside”. It was the same as upstairs except the stuff was bigger. We couldn’t even get the door to the backyard open the entire way.
It broke my heart to see the shame and embarrassment in her eyes. I did my best to make her feel like everything was okay, we were just there to visit and have fun. We left after about a half hour.
I’ve decided I can never go back unless it’s to get her out of that place. It’s horrible. My mother has chronic conditions and he keeps her in a house locked in with smoke. I hate him for that. I’m afraid that she feels trapped. She’s never lived alone, she’s never depended only on herself financially and I don’t know if she can handle it.
This weekend Brent and I are going to try and figure things out with her. First order of business is to find out whether she really wants to be there. If not, then we will do everything we can to help her find an affordable place to live nearby so she doesn’t feel isolated. We’ll probably also have to help her furnish it since I didn’t see a single item that belonged to her. I wonder what happened to it all… There obviously wasn’t room for her to move it in…
God… I really hope she WANTS to leave and is just waiting for someone to reach out because I don’t know how to deal with this otherwise.
On this day: