2/4/2019 She will just not let me rest in peace. Today is Monday, and I’m back at work after a very roller-coastery weekend. My husband and I had a lot of good times—went to a play, hiked a bunch, and even socialized with friends. However, my daughter started with some rather startling texts on Saturday morning, and I was sick with migraines for the rest of the weekend. I had to medicate to deal with the symptoms, and even slept through the Super Bowl!
Her first text was to tell me that she changed her mind BACK and was moving home after all. She buttered me up a little, saying things like, “I should listen to what my mom says,” “I do want to know how your doctor’s visit went,” and “I’ve already reapplied at my old job and have a guaranteed position since I left on good terms.”
It was a very nice text-only conversation, mostly because I just let her talk and didn’t react to anything—I wasn’t excited or cynical, I just stayed neutral and kept my nose clean! I knew what was coming, of course, because there’s always a financial component to any of my daughter’s niceties. She threw in a bit about being OK financially, but could I send her this month’s installment of her birthday gift a little early as a buffer. Being a daughter “seer,” I pretty much had already started the transfer before she said the actual words.
To my relieved surprise, she explained that she never signed the year lease on the nice new apartment, she didn’t trade her car for the beat-up van (because her brakes went out), and her plan is to leave within a couple of days, and take a slow journey home. She’s going to visit her sister and arrive home in about a week or so.
The big question for me was, “Where will you stay when you get here?” I can’t have her live with me—she has animals, which I won’t live with and my husband is allergic to, and her lifestyle is unacceptable to me. It would one day before I couldn’t bear her room, her hygiene, her hair, or her attitude, and we’d be at odds. I have a certain way I live at 55 years old, and it is the opposite of hers, so living with me can never happen. She said she plans on staying “with friends” until she has a place of her own. I think she means the old boyfriend in a tent, but I can’t prove it.
So, as far as I know, she’s on her way back home, and will arrive sometime this week. She’s been known to come here and not get in touch with me until late in the game, so we’ll see when I actually hear from her again. I might ask her to turn on location services during her long drive if she doesn’t do it voluntarily, but that’s actually nerve-wracking in itself. When she was driving back from home last time, I was up all night checking on her, and that’s not healthy.
I couldn’t help myself; I started looking for houses for her to rent and jobs she can apply for. I know she should do these things herself and she’s perfectly capable, but I wanted to make sure there were places for her to be—not too close, but not too far, either. Is this enabling? Only secretly. Am I happy she’s coming home? A little. Am I hopeful yet again? I think so. Will I be happy to possibly help her restart her life? Damn it, yes.