This was an email I sent to mom (who I’d also call ‘nana’) after picking up Ryan in the morning for school and seeing how sad she looked and how empty her house looked.
Nana – I know you’re hurting inside. I know you’re probably in feeling the same type of depression that I am. I know you probably look at your home as nothing more than four walls with memories and failed attempts to bring family together. I know you’ve given up. I know you’ll ultimately looking to sell your home. And I know a lot of that is my fault.
But I wanted you to know something. I don’t speak much. I don’t say much. But I care about you deeply. Your my mom. The woman who never gave up on me. On us. On our family. The woman who has always been my rock. My expert opinion. The one I always value advice from. The one who never falters. And if she does, she finds her way to freedom again.
I’m sorry for the financial situation I’ve put you into. None of this has gone the way I had hoped. The way I had dreamed. My goal in doing this (Footprints / Optimus) was to provide an amazing life for ALL of you. To travel all over. To completely take over all of your bills. To give you a chance to live that carefree lifestyle. To make you proud without having to worry about a thing. To help you retire young. To see you smile. To give you a chance to live a great life after so many years of disappointment and struggle. To give you time with your grandson. To send you on getaways every year to Napa. Sky was the limit. My dreams were set high. But unfortunately I turned into a sinking ship. And I’ve taking everyone down with me.
It’s really hard to admit defeat. It’s really hard to have hope when so many things in life have failed. It’s really hard to smile through all the stress. And it’s really hard to see you struggling because of my actions.
As I mentioned before, I am backing off of Footprints. It costs me about $100 a month to keep online and it will still be up for use. But I can’t put any more into it. Instead I’m going to dedicate whatever time I can towards helping Ania streamline her business so she can get more profitable and continue growing it. I will also do whatever I can to keep promoting Optimus. Because despite the darkness I am in, I still have that little glimmer of hope things will work out.
I’ve thrown my hands up to my angels. I’ve given in. I’ve given up. I have asked them to just take me and guide me where I am supposed to go. Everyday is a fight, but I keep reminding myself that I am no longer in control of my own destiny. Because the decisions I have made got us all to a point I never saw coming.
I hate to see you in pain. I hate to see you giving up. I know you feel alone, desperate, nervous, and so much more. But I can’t sit idly by and watch you give up on your dream while falling apart.
Starting this month, I am committing to paying you back and taking over the payments as much as I can. For starters I will dedicate one full paycheck from Uber to you each month. I’ve cancelled the insurance on KITT, so that should get us a few hundred as well. Ania and I are going to sell some of her jewelry and will get her stamp and coin collection from her grandmother appraised. We should continue getting help from the state to cover food costs. So at least once a month I want to do shopping for you with those food stamps.
All of this is non-negotiable. My mind is made up. So you can say no all you want. It’s still happening.
I don’t know how bad your financial situation is, nor am I asking you to share that with me. But if there is any ounce of hope left in you, please don’t start emptying your house of the memories we have built. Please don’t start selling off everything. Because all you’ll have left is an empty shell of a home. A place that was once a paradise now turned into a prison. If you want I can come over and together we can walk through the house and come up with a list of the random things you no longer need while still maintaining a sense of ‘home’. For example we can sell your tractor if it’s getting to be too much maintenance for you and I will bring ours there once every few weeks to do the yard for you. We can sell one or two of your refrigerators. If you want we can sell the wood flooring you purchased for your kitchen. Etc.
I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but your home has felt MORE like home for me vs. my own home. I felt more comfortable at your house than I do here. It was relaxing. Peaceful. Fun. But most of all it was my mom’s house. A home she was able to purchase on her own despite the odds. I was, and still am, so proud of what you have accomplished. We have already made so many memories there. None of us want to see it go. None of us want to see it empty.
You bought that home with the intent on giving your kids and grandkids a mountain getaway. I realize most of those kids are done, but we are still here. And I can tell you Ryan still absolutely loves going there and making new memories. This morning he was very concerned he would lose his “nana home with the forest and huge property”.
Again I don’t know your situation. And don’t tell me. I’d rather not know. You do what you need to do to survive. But if there is anything left in that strong-willed girl we all know as Judy “tiller woman”, please don’t give up on your dream. Don’t give up on the one place you enjoyed coming to. Don’t give up on us. Don’t give up on the new memories we have left to create.
Don’t respond to this email. Instead I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me and to us. We miss you. And I would love to maybe spend some time there again, even if it’s just once or twice a month. Cook, drink, play, chat, relax. Whatever. Like it used to be.
I will fix this. I am committed and won’t stop until I do. Love you nana.