It Happened...

The first time I was homeless changed my life forever. When I was about 9 years old a sheriff came to my house at 8 in the morning as I was heading out to school. The sheriff handed my mother a yellow paper and I had no idea what it was. A few weeks later I began seeing my mother bringing in empty boxes every day and packing up our belongings. I did approach my mom and ask why she was packing up our belongings and her exact words were, “We’re getting evicted”. Me being young I had no idea what that word even meant but my mother explained it to me.  Knowing that my mother did not have a job, I wondered where my two brothers and I would live and what we would do about school. Yes, my father was an option, but he didn’t have the time on his plate to look after us like my mother did because he had a job unlike my mom. As the days came dwindling down I noticed that my mother was drinking more than she ever did on a normal day. I thought maybe it could be because she was stressed and didn’t have a plan for us or maybe she was just trying to forget that any of this situation was even happening at all and was trying to drink her problems away. Either way it wasn’t the right way to go about the situation because when she did drink, my mother would have these crazy mood swings and would take all here anger out on us by yelling and screaming. But I kind of figured it was just the alcohol talking and she didn’t mean any of it. I felt bad for my mom because I could do nothing at all to help my mom to get through this situation nor could I help her financially. I felt as though I was letting my mother down unable to provide help. Any child would feel this way seeing their mother go through what she did with 3 children and struggling.