Friday, July 26, 2013

Thank you :)

I just wanted to say THANK YOU to the wonderful people who have sent me support, both monetary and in thoughts and prayers. It means a lot. We still need about 600 more on the roof/kitchen/back porch in supplies … I don’t know if anyone can help us here, but if so, it’d be GREATLY appreciated… Because the roof was leaking so badly, it ruined our kitchen floor, to the point where there are areas that are in danger of falling through. We have a few sheets of plywood covering the really bad parts but it didn’t do any good to fix it all when there were still leaky spots. The first thing we’re trying to do is to get the mold on the back porch under control—we hope. That stuff is a pain to deal with because by the time you see it, it means that there’s a lot behind the walls that you can’t see, and those will have to be torn out completely and rebuilt. We can do it; we just need the funding. As humbling as it is, I am going to post pictures of our kitchen ceiling, just so you can see what I’m talking about and that honestly, I’m not joking about any of it. That’s the ceiling that completely fell in. Yeah, it’s not pretty.

IMG_20130718_131854 IMG_20130718_131859

For those who have asked, yes, we’ve tried to apply for help from some of the places around here that will do that kind of thing. The problem we’ve run into is that they all have a backlog of people they’re already helping, well into next summer, and, well, we can’t wait that long. I did sign up to help with some of them, though, because I figure that it’s the least I can do, even if we cannot wait for help ourselves. It seems like all the agencies around here are stretched to their limits already, and it’s sad but it just goes to show that Indiana on a whole is NOT okay.

In any case, I hate to ask, but I must… if anyone has the inclination to help us still, please see my last post (below this one) for the donation links, and again, THANK YOU SO MUCH to those who have helped us and who continue to inspire me. I love you all, and I am trying to get myself back into the frame of mind to write again. I refuse to leave Valerie and Evan hanging if I can help it, but your kindness has gone a long way toward easing my mind. I think that the real reason I posted anything at all was simply because I was scared and still am. I can literally feel the edges of depression creeping up on me, and it’s a struggle to fend them off every day. I think that anyone would start to feel hopeless and lost after a time, too, and it sucks. It really does. But your thoughts and prayers have helped me already. I thank you for that from the bottom of my heart!

posted by Sueric at 6:29 pm  

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Status Update

Hey. I know a lot of you are wondering where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing. We’ve been trying to get some work done on our house, and we’ve done what we could. There’s been a lot of crap going on around here, and it’s all kind of just bearing down on me, to the point where I have trouble functioning daily, if I want to be honest. It’s one of those situations where you feel like it’s never going to be okay, no matter what you do, you know? And every time you turn around, it just gets worse. To be completely frank, I feel like I’m at the very end of my rope.


After Alex’s Jeep was totaled, we used the insurance money to pay for another car because as you know, having just one car with two working adults is nearly impossible, especially when one of them works odd hours (Alex). Then we used the rest of the money to catch up on bills we hadn’t had a chance to pay, and we’re not talking a lot of bills. We’ve already cut down to the bare minimum as far as that goes. The problem is that the electric bill always runs over 200 bucks every month, and it sucks. On top of that, we’re barely able to squeak by week after week.


But you know, it doesn’t matter, does it? Because the worst thing in the world happens when you can least afford anything, right? So the roof over the back of our house that we knew was going bad decided to fall in. It’d been going for a while, I admit that, but when you don’t have the money to fix it, and I mean, really don’t have the money to fix it, then it’s a problem. We were able to get ice shield over it all, but we had to buy three rolls of it @100 bucks per roll (ouch). Then the car breaks down (another 160.), then our water switch for the house went out (only 20 but you get where I’m going here, right?), and to top it all off nicely, our front burner on the stove went out, too, which is not a big deal until you realize that the other front burner on our stove went out a while ago, so we only have the small back burners left working since those are fifty bucks apiece. Then we had no money for groceries at all, had no food, no help, no nothing. That’s where we are, and you’re not going to read about this on Facebook; I never post stuff like this there because, really, what’s the point? The point is, at this point, I am ready to give up, completely and utterly.


So in an effort to get some money from Eric’s 401k (our only option left), we filled out all the stuff they wanted, but they want an ‘official estimate’. We can’t. Firstly, there isn’t anyone who will do one without being paid (which we don’t have). Secondly, licensed contractors are required by law to report certain things, like black mold, and if they report that, the health department will condemn our house until it’s been fixed, and we cannot afford to move even temporarily. We’re so finished, it’s not funny. We can’t even get the money to help ourselves. I’ve been through it in my head so many times, and there’s just nothing. Not a thing that could help us or save us. We’re absolutely done. Needless to say, at this point, the stories are useless, pointless. I can’t get my head around real life stuff, so writing just seems frivolous when all I keep thinking is that if Eric could just work a couple days of overtime, we’d be okay. We’re not okay. No one is hiring, let alone hiring someone who hasn’t worked in 20 years because she wanted to raise her family, because she has a handicapped child that takes priority over everything. No one wants to hire me because I made a mistake 13 years ago and was convicted of a felony. They see that and that’s all they see. They don’t know if I have done anything to make sure that I don’t make the same mistake again (I did. I asked the court to order me to get counseling because we couldn’t afford it, so if the court ordered it, I wouldn’t have to pay for it when we didn’t have it.). They only see the “yes” box ticked next to have you ever been convicted of a felony? I’ll be honest here. All I can think of lately is that if I accidentally died, Eric could have my life insurance. They say God doesn’t let anything happen to you that you cannot handle, but I’m starting to wonder. I feel like I’m balancing on the edge of depression, and I’ve been there before. It’s an ugly place, and the whole thing is just dirty and terrible, but that’s where I feel like I’m going. So sorry about the lack of updates. At this point, I just don’t know when or how or anything. I just don’t know.

Or log into paypal and click on the Send Money tab. My email is

You can use the button at the top of to donate if you wish. Look for the PayPal button in the top menu bar.

posted by Sueric at 10:32 am  

Monday, July 12, 2010

Two Years

Two years.


That sounds like such a long time, doesn’t it?  Two years …

I mean, if you think about it, a lot can happen in just two years, right?

A recession, a change of presidents, a change of eras … In two years, I’ve learned that there are some people who I should be able to trust but cannot and others who I didn’t trust who have since proved that they are sincere.  In two years, I’ve realized that little boys can and do grow up to be young men.  In two years, I’ve found that some people whom I have considered friends are more like family.  In two years, I’ve found that some family are not worthy of that distinction.

In two years, I’ve learned what it is like to lose a good friend disguised as a pet.  In two years, I’ve learned to open my heart to other pets that have needed me almost as much as I needed them.  I’ve learned that to truly be happy in this world, you have to let go of things that just don’t matter.  In two years, I’ve learned to hold onto those things that really, really do.

In two years, I’ve laughed, and I’ve cried.  In two years, I’ve wondered if I’d be able to open my eyes in the morning without worrying about things that I cannot control.  In two years, I’ve realized time and again that my best friend is the man I married.  In two years, I’ve come to understand that it’s all right to see him cry, too.

There’s just one thing that has remained the same over the course of two years.  It is a strange thing, I think, that in those same two years that have molded me, the constant sense of loss is still there.  Oh, I don’t cry very often anymore.  I can smile when I remember, and I can laugh at the funny things.  I can see things with more clarity than I saw back then, too.  I suppose that it’s a normal thing, isn’t it?

The sun still rises, and the sun still sets.  The moon goes through its phases in the midst of a starry sky.  Sometimes I sit beside her grave, and I think that everything really is all right.  Maybe it’s because I can feel her more now than I did two years ago.  I’d like to think that she’s our angel now, that incredible woman that we knew as “mom”.  Though we cannot hear her voice any longer, we can still feel her presence.  It’s always there, in the touch of the breeze that ruffles your hair.  It’s there in the sigh when the light of the world touches the darker hues of the descending night, and that night is no longer a scary place.  It has been tempered by a gentleness that came from her, or so I like to think.

I’d like to think that she’s happier now—happier because she can watch over all of those she held dear, not just the ones she could see, and I know without a doubt at all that she is still here, and if that is so, then there is one thing that I need to say.

Mom, I want to thank you: thank you for welcoming me into your family, thank you for smiling when you could’ve cried, for laughter and for understanding.  Thank you for the gentle advice and the times when you said nothing at all.  How did you know when I just needed someone to listen?  How did you know when I needed you to tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself?  And I am ashamed to admit that I didn’t say ‘thank you’ nearly enough, especially when I realize that the single greatest thing that you did for me was something that I never got to thank you for.  For that man I married, the one I love: I thank you for him most of all.  Through your guidance and your love, you helped him to become the person I adore, and if I have one regret, it’s that I didn’t hug you one more time, that I didn’t tell you that I held you in the highest of regard.

Two years have passed since you slipped out of our lives, but … but you’re still here, aren’t you, Mom?  So I won’t say goodbye now, either.  Instead I’ll smile when I look up into the clear blue sky.  When I hear my children laugh, I’ll think of you then, too, and I’ll try every day to remember that one day, I want to be a guardian for those I leave behind, just like you are.

Two years.

Two years.

posted by Sueric at 10:06 pm  

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