The saga continues

Well I have had a heck of a day. Topping it off was a letter from my incarcerated nephew basically yelling at me for throwing out mattresses, saying no one has helped him, and telling me not to give the keys to the landlord because the landlord never paid them for new locks. WTH
So I am answering him
I will send you the money, half to your commissary and half to B’s every month. If I keep only the money for storage, you will have nothing when you get out. -->-->-->
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I threw out bags of actual garbage (like litter and cat poop.) We threw away the single bed mattresses because the cats had peed and pooped on them. The storage unit would have gotten bugs if we had kept them. All the clothes, dressers, the futon, the table (minus one chair that broke) sofa, chair, tvs, stuffed animals, toys, games, washer, dryer, etc. are in storage. The storage unit is 10 feet deep, 10 feet wide and 8 feet tall. It is jammed full; NOTHING more would fit, except maybe a couple of pillows. I promise that the mattresses, even if they had not been soiled, would not have fit. -->-->
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There is something called freecycle.com and people can get stuff for free there. People are always offering twin bed mattresses and box springs. When you get out, if the kids need the mattresses and box springs, we can get them there.-->-->
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The landlord is going to have to clean or get new carpets. The grease marks, cat poop and pee, and dog poop ruined the carpets. That will cost more than your security deposit and the money you paid for keys. The cats also pooped in the tub (which I cleaned) and the kitchen floor will need severe mopping. If I hadn’t left the keys for the landlord, you would need to pay another month. -->-->
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I do love you.

What a day

Okay, this is what my day was like. The problem is, I don't know where to start, I mean, this is so convoluted.
My sister, Geri, was my hero. She also was one of the reasons I got sober. I started teaching in 1987, and lived with her. In 1988, she adopted one of her students. In 1989, she kicked my out because my dry, and sometimes wet, drunks were scaring the boy she adopted. She was right to do that, and later that year I got sober.
The boy she adopted was severely learning disabled, but I was able to help tutor him and he did manage to graduate. His senior year, though, he and his girlfriend (who was his age, but never managed to get out of 9th grade). They would later get married and have 4 more children in a stormy, stormy relationship.
FAST FORWARD:
1998, Geri became seriously ill with end-stage renal failure.
1999-2001, We spent most of our time trying to keep Geri alive. She was in the hospital for over a year, and then in assisted living.
May 2001-October 2004- Geri moved in with DH and I. Our world sometimes seemed to revolve around dialysis 3 days a week, doctors visits and emergency room visits. All this while we were raising one daughter, and then in April 2004, I had another. Four days after my last daughter was born, Geri had a stroke.
October 2004, Geri got a kidney from a cadaver-donor. Unfortunately, her systemic lupus reacted poorly to the stress of that, and in December, she died of lupus-induced multi-organ failure. The last thing she asked was that I take care of her son.
I am my nephew's representative payee for SSI, managing the money affairs about which he tells me.
ALMOST TO TODAY:
In January, my nephew and his wife were arrested for the sexual abuse of three of their children from 1998-2003.
TODAY:
My husband and I had to move all of their stuff to storage. One of nephew's friends, his sister and my stepson were supposed to come to help. The sister and her fiance had to go out of town. Stepson cut his hand. I just turned it over, because I didn't have a choice.
My BIL came and helped. The neighbor helped. A coworker of my Knight helped. So did my FIL. HE did little more than follow me around the apartment. (SHUDDER)
But it is done. Over. Now all I have to do is write checks from the account that Geri's retirement endowment comes to.

I was one of the presenters at Career Day at my district's high school. I sat with an elementary school teacher and we talked about what you need to do to get to be a teacher, and what teaching was really like. There were 12 presentation periods of 10 minutes each.

FINALLY, the last one arrived. Don't get me wrong, I had had a really good time seeing some former students and talking about my avocation, but I was tired and knew that I still had to return to my own building and teach the second half of the day.

Then three boys sat down. I said "Hi" to two of them, one of whom had been my student. Then I looked at the third. He said, "Remember me?" I said "Yep."

Now "Ed" was one of my students. He wouldn't write. He wouldn't read. He was the bane of the ELA and Math teachers' existences. He was a solid C student.

Then one day we were talking about some social studies topic...and he and I had a conversation that I rarely can have even with my colleagues. He had similar conversations with the Science teacher. Another day he sat and talked with the two of us about a novel that the class was reading together in ELA. I mean he discussed it in depth, with insight and talked about foreshadowing and allusion to other works. The test on that book, though, he barely passed.

I was fortunate to have a resource teacher 'push-in' that year. She and I cajoled, threatened, and called in 'markers' to get "Ed" tested for disabilities. The school psychologist, ELA teacher and Math teacher insisted that he was a C student with average intelligence.

Uh, no. "Ed" scored a near genius on the WISC-R. He read far below grade level, had a physical disability in his arm, and qualified for every blasted accomodation on the IEP. He had taught himself strategies to learn. Within 3 months of resource with my friend, he was reading grade levels above where he had been.
.
So what I said "Yeah" to 'Ed', I was lying. He is the one I won't forget. EVER. (There are others, also) He told the other teacher with me that he definitely wanted to be a teacher. When she later asked him what he wanted to teach, he looked straight and me and said, "History."


No, I didn't cry.


Okay, I didn't cry until I got to my car.