One of my biggest issues lately has been the selling of my house. While I am very much looking forward to it, as I have lived in this house since I was three and a half years old, it does bring about quite a bit of apprehension about my future.
The house I live in is, by no means, a shambles. It is actually a lovely little 3 bedroom ranch, possible 4th bedroom in the basement, with many quaint little things about it that have just always made it "home." However, this house no longer symbolizes home to me. It hasn't for a while now. You may be asking yourself, Why? Well, there is a long list of reasons, some monumental, some trivial, why this house is no longer HOME.
My parents, whom I had lived with in this house, have both passed away. I watched them both suffer horribly slow, painful deaths. It was not something that made me feel any more close to this house, knowing they suffered in it before they died. Then there is the drama that has ensued since they passed. The first was with my "Brother" Harry. Two days after my Mom passed away from cancer, he had us served with court papers stating he was suing us (my sister, Ginger, and I) over the house, trying to either collect rent from us at an astronomically high rate or to force us to sell. We ended up settling out of court for $40,000 to him, plus his attorney fees, our attorney fees, paperwork on the "sale" of the house, and a few other things that were thrown in that we should have NEVER been forced to foot the bill on (like his missed pay from taking off work to meet with his attorney and file paperwork). All-in-all it ended up running us about $46,000 to have him taken off the house. The harassment has continued, though he hasn't found any way to sue us over anything new since.
Following the receipt of the court papers from my 'brother' was the court papers from my 'sister', Lizann. She decided to sue my sister, Ginger, over the Mary & Juanito (here forward known as 'the kids'). The kids are Lizann's biological grandchildren that her daughter, Bernie, lost custody of when she was going to prison on drug charges. Ginger took custody of the kids, back in 2000, so the kids wouldn't end up in 'the system'. Now, as soon as Mom passed away, they decided that we were all unfit for the children to be with, and they wanted them back. This is six years later, and all of a sudden they want the kids. Mind you, Ginger has full legal custody of the children, yet they took her to court and ran down what little money we had left in the bank to nothing. They ended up winning visitation rights, but custody remains with Ginger.
Then there is the drama with my fiancé, Donnie, and my sister, Ginger, not getting along. That is, in and of itself, a very stressful thing for me, but something I have learned to accept. Enough said on that subject, for the moment at least.
Then there was my pregnancy. January 18, 2007 I found out I was pregnant. I was scared, but happy. Did I really want a child? Sure, why not? All went well for a few weeks, then signs started popping up that my pregnancy would go less than smoothly. By three months pregnant, I was on bed rest. At six months pregnant, I gave birth by emergency C-section to my son, Giovanni Xavier, who weighed in at 2 pounds 6.75 ounces and 16 inches long. He spent 68 days in the NICU. He came home healthy, but small.
In March, 2008, his Daddy decided he needed a break, and left. While his Daddy was gone (but I was with him for a weekend with Gio) I found out I was pregnant. Within 48 hours, however, that joy was over as the pregnancy ended in miscarriage. I still have some lingering issues about what might have been, what could have been and what should have been. I will always question if that miscarried pregnancy would have been my little girl. Daddy came back home shortly after.
Since then it has been a very bumpy road, resulting in his Dad and I splitting again. This time, it is more serious. I don't know if we will find our way back to each other this time, though I do still hope we will.
With my house on the verge of selling, it has brought me to the question: Where do I go from here?
Where ever I go, I need a fresh start. I want away from Ohio, or at least the portions of it I know best. I want to be away from people I've seen nearly every day of my life, and really start new. I don't know if I will move to Michigan to be near Donnie's family, or if I will move someplace new all together. I don't know what I want to do or where I want to go. I do know that, where ever it is, I would love for Donnie to be with me, but if that isn't possible, that is okay. With time, the pain will ease. If nothing else good ever comes from Donnie and I having been together, I have this: I learned what it was to love and be loved, for real and without hesitation or fear of judgment. I learned that sometimes the things I want most are things I never knew I wanted at all. I have my son, and he is perfect. For that I will be eternally grateful.
