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No More People!
There’s no doubt it’s been a tough couple of years. Covid killed millions of people worldwide. Not content with that, it also took millions of jobs away from the economy too. Any government help that was available to cover the rent or face increasing prices has run out, leaving people with little hope. Little hope and even fewer options. For some, the only option is to move back home with good old Mom and Dad.
I got the email Monday. My middle son was having difficulty. He had managed to keep his head above water quite well. Until he decided to move and found himself the victim of an unscrupulous landlord. Out of money and out of luck, he had no choice. He had to do the unthinkable. He had to come back home at almost 29 years old.
“Of course,” I said without hesitation. I mean, who wouldn’t open their home to their own child? I was excited. I hadn't seen him in person for over 7 years as he was living halfway across the country.
But mixed with that excitement are a whole host of other emotions, trepidation, fear, uncertainty, confusion and more than a bit of territorial selfishness. The push and pull between wanting to protect and shelter my baby boy and continuing my blissful, empty-nester existence is real, and it goes something like this:
