How can we not?

There have been many negative situations in my life, but the current one has my heart breaking and my stomach churning. For the holidays, my daughter, Maria, flew to Louisiana to visit with a long time girlfriend and her husband. Ava also had a baby during this time and Maria loves babies (she is called the “baby whisperer” in our extended family.). When the holidays were over, Maria asked if she could stay with her friend to help out, and sent a beautiful picture of herself beaming with joy as she held the infant. She was so happy when I said she could stay if she wanted to (she is 23 years old and an adult and should have the personal choice to decide where she lives.) So she has stayed with this family since Christmas and it has worked out wonderful beyond belief. Ava, who is deaf, is awesome with Marie and provides superb supervision for her. She only texts me if she has a question about a difficult behavior Marie exhibits or to say she wants to spend her limited money on something too expensive (in which case, I text Marie to explain again why she needs to use her money for important things.) As a mom, I was relieved that Marie appeared to have an adult life that suits her and in which she is beyond happy.

The other day, Marie casually texted me that they were going to have to move. The landlord was raising the rent and they couldn’t afford it. She said they were thinking about moving to Texas because “the rent was cheap there” or to Mississippi. It was at that point that the true physical limitations to their home came to light; there was mold all over the ceilings, bugs crawling everywhere, and the floor was so worn that there were holes in it covered with plywood “so the animals wouldn’t crawl in.” And the home was only two rooms with the three adults and a newborn! My heart sank that my own daughter was living in such squalor and had not thought to mention it before. Marie, who had lived on the streets and in many sub-par apartments before she came to live with us as a foster child at the age of 7, had not been concerned with her physical surroundings. She was thrilled that she had such a good friend who was also deaf and there was a new baby with whom she could cuddle and give her love.

I had not known anything of Ava or her husband’s personal stories, except she had graduated with honors from a school for the deaf and he had been to a community college to get a degree in computer technology. There was a lot more to their story than Ava had originally shared. She had been a foster child, removed after her mother murdered her 2-year-old brother. She bounced from foster home to foster home until she turned 18 and became an adult without any support who became homeless, living on the streets of New Orleans. Her husband, Paul, had also been a foster child after being born to heroin-addicted parents. Again, he had to leave the foster care program at the age of 18 and he, also, lived on the streets until he met Ava. Because of her deafness, someone had helped Ava get SSI, a kind of social security for individuals with a disability. With this money, the couple found the small house in which they are now living, and have been a happily married couple for five years. Coming from their backgrounds, the home was a Godsend because they had a roof over their heads. It wasn’t until the baby was born that Ava started to talk about moving elsewhere, thus the conversation with Marie about moving to a “cheap” state.

I, of course, was mortified. Mortified to learn of the horrific conditions of the home my daughter and her friends lived in. Mortified to learn of Ava and Paul’s childhood experiences, thinking of our own adopted foster children who might have met a fate such as theirs had they not been adopted. And mortified that they had so little support that they would move to any state where the rent was cheap. Of course, as any mother would do, I told Marie they needed to move to Rhode Island.

Most righteous parents would have insisted Marie leave them and move home, but it needs to be understood that Marie, herself, has lived a hard life and this is the first time in her adult life that she has been happy and thriving. Everyone deserves to have a stable, joyful and independent adult life, even Ava and Paul. Being the spiritually inclined “love they neighbor” eternal optimist that I am, Hubby and I will be looking for the perfect place for them to live in Rhode Island. How can we not?

(Story to be continued next week.)