It was a few days into my new state of homelessness when my daughter graduated out of her back brace and was able to walk with a cane.  I was so happy and so proud that we had already hit this milestone, it felt as if things were possibly looking up.  That night we were staying with my girlfriends and as I pulled into the driveway I received a text.  It was from that guys’, you know the one, the name of which we will never speak again, well it was from his father.  The prominent doctor and it read: “Sorry about the breakup, I’ll need your half of the money I put out for the hotel”  I stared at the text in shock.  Wait.  What?  You want what from who?  All I could think of was that, he, you know who, put his poor father up to this.  How could he really expect me to pay anything?  His son just threw us out on the street!  I responded back kindly because I wasn’t mad at his father, he was always so nice and this didn’t sound like him at all.  My text read “I’m so sorry, but you will have to work out the details of money with your son, this unfortunately no longer concerns me”  I thought that was the end of that.  I don’t know why I thought that, but a few hours later I received another text: “I spoke with “HIM” and he says your parents gave you half the money to give back to me and I’d like it.  It’s not nice to leave me holding the bag for this money I helped you with.”  That sentence was an oxymoron wasn’t it?  I owe you money you ‘helped” us or me with?  I was getting more and more agitated.  Are they fucking kidding me?  It wasn’t bad enough what I’ve been through now you are going to harass me for money you gave as a gesture of kindness?  Ask your freaking son, tell him to stop partying and he can pay you back.  I again, in my nicest tone asked him to please stop texting me that this issue of payback was between him and his son.  I then blocked his number.  The next day I went to visit my parents and get clothes and make my rounds between interviews and physical therapy and visiting the animals all over god’s creation when I walked in they were sitting in the den not speaking.  I hadn’t told them about my texts, but I knew something was up.  “What’s going on?” I asked and then my father proceeded to tell me that HIS father had just called my parents to request I pay back the money and to inform them that maybe they didn’t know that I had left him holding the payment of the hotel.  I thought quite possibly my father was going to go old school Italian style and call his friends and pay someone a visit, but he merely said.  “I said nothing on the phone, I listened and then I hung up, but I wanted to scream my guts out at him, but I didn’t”  My parents have always chosen to do the “Christian” thing, treat others with respect and not belittle anyone in any situation even if they deserved it.  I always admired that about them.  All my father asked was “What kind of people are they to ask this after what has just happened and how their son treated you and your children?”  I had no answer.  These were not the people who thanked me for taking care of their son and grandchildren, these were not the people who told me what a warm and welcoming home I had created for the family we were putting together, these were not the people who called to check in on things and come for dinner and invite us out for pizza.  Where did those people go?  Every thing and every person and every situation in  my life right now was like I woke up in an altered universe or the twilight zone.  Everyone had lost their minds and everyone was thinking ONLY of themselves.  What the hell was wrong with these people? No one I knew or loved in the last two years was who I thought they were.  Not even me….

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