Alittle Tid-Bit

I retract the evening that I picked up the book “Volunteer Vacations”. I was flipping through the different organizations, their mission statements, where their located, and on one of those pages, I clearly remember seeing Dakshinayan.
Immediately, my heart started pounding in my chest. It was odd and unexpected because I had no clue what it meant. I read further and saw that the price was feasible. I thought to myself, I could do this.
That same feeling has overcome me tonight. For some reason, I am beginning to feel God influence my steps that I am taking in my mind to what I want for my life.
I told myself while I was in India that I wanted to live according to the priorities that I set for my life. Living to the standards of the "American Dream" is not important to me. And I am 25 years old, on the adjacent verge of 26. And I have nothing to show for it but my acclaimed trip to India.
I don’t want to be wealthy, I don’t want fancy cars, and I don’t want to own a nice wardrobe or even an impressive house. But I do want to serve God. I want to know that what I am doing is for a purpose greater than me.
A 9-5 job isn’t going to cut it with my huge imagination, my heart that beats for the people of this world, and the want to be something beyond just an employee at a work place. I truly believe that God, my Creator, has other things in store for me.
And my basis for my belief is, God made me. He made every piece of me. And he tuned my heart just the way he wanted it and has over time, tweaked it to His satisfaction. I still have a very long way to go as far as being the devoted disciple he calls for us to be, but He places the drive within me to do something BIGGER!!
And I intend to reach that, and carry out His will for my life.

Labor Intensive

    My niece, Annabell Wesley Adkins was delivered on her own agenda, which I knew would come about in due time. She weighed 8lbs 12 ounces and she was 21 inches long.It was incredible.

My camera had the wrong date 02/26/09 is correct

    I’ve watched a sufficient amount of television shows and movies that deal with pregnancy and actual labor, but nothing could have prepared me for that infamous day and delivery.
    As soon as I got the call, I was headed to Central Baptist Hospital, camera in hand, eager to be present for my family’s first baby. Out of all the grand kids on my mother’s side, Alisha would be the first to bear a child. My little sister was having a baby.
    The entire time I was at the hospital, it was surreal. I could not grasp the fact that this was it. After this day, Alisha would have a kid. A little mini-Alisha glued to her every waking move and thought.
    Watching the candid labor firsthand was absolutely bizarre and out of this world. I was looking around her and was just soaking everything in. The room, the lights, the doctor’s face, the nurse’s hands, Austin’s continuity in eyes as he looked down on her. And my mother holding Alisha’s feet, aiding her in a more tactful position to help improve her pushing. I don’t even know what the hell I was doing… haha.
    The last few seconds dwindled down, but went so fast to me, that I began screaming louder than Alisha! I was screaming, “Push push!” And the doctor and nurse yelled back, “No! Stop pushing!”
    Like I said, I didn’t know what I was doing. I don’t know what I was saying…but when the doctor said he could see the head… a switch flipped on in my brain telling me this is it…and I was in a hostile mode.
    I thought, this baby is coming and I’m not going to stop yelling until I hear crying.  I guess I yelled and encouraged her to push a little too much. This entire process sanctions a definite pass out that is a classic move I thought was routine for this event, but thankfully never happened.
    To be perfectly honest, it was graphic and bloody and I can’t believe I watched the whole thing. But it was amazing.
    Seeing it on TV and watching it firsthand is like seeing a picture of the beach, and in fact, placing your feet upon white sand and feeling the warm ocean breeze graze your face. They are poles apart.
    I am so thankful that I was able to be there right next to her through out the entire thing. To see Annabell come into the world, through 9 strenuous months inside my precious sister, and to be swept up in my little sister’s devoted arms, a true and bona-fide mother. What a delightful moment in our lives.
    Another blessing to count, upon the abundant miracles God has placed within our lives. How wonderful!

Annabel in her Mother's arms

Ramblings of a Beggar

My heart has been changing. I feel it deep inside when I listen closely, when I look at something that arouses my senses and stirs my emotions. God has renewed the mangled handle to my heart that I have locked away and wedged space between for several years.
It excites me because I feel and see things in a whole new light. Not the way it used to be when I was close to the Lord back in high school. I was young and naive, and I didn’t know what it was like to live in a world full of sin…to pry firsthand into the web of lies it creates.
I was sheltered and wanted freedom from my family, my Godly friends, the church, and even God himself.  When I was with my first boyfriend, I was peeking into the world without God. I saw fun, I saw different people, and I saw a carefree lifestyle that I was never exposed to. And most of all, I saw liberation. I saw no rules, no guidelines, no one to tell me when to stop or when to go.
I fell in love with him sooner than I anticipated.  Although it’s been more than 8 years, some things still remain intact. (Unfortunately). I remember giving away my cherished first kiss. Freakin A. The feeling every woman chases and stalks: being wanted. It was amazing! I never quite had butterflies like the ones I had when I fell in love with him. They weren’t fluttering around like little fairies…it felt like they were playing rugby in my stomach.
The initial months we were together, Satan was “opening my eyes” to how wonderful life could be if I were in love…with the wrong guy. How good it would feel to make decisions by myself…the wrong ones. How exhilarating sex would feel without being married… hollow and worthless. What drinking alcohol to the extreme would be like… endless nights arched over a toilet overwhelmed with shame. Having friends steer you to do the cool thing and propel you away from all of your morals and values.
Satan was vigorously shaking me away from my Father, and all that I believed in. I was, by choice, taking Satan’s hand and saying “okay”. 
As much as I want to give complete credit to Satan for the way I was living my life…I cannot because I made the choices.  I made the ultimate decision to forfeit my heart.
 Corresponding with every single person on the face of this earth, God warrants our choice.  In Deuteronomy, He places life and death on the table, up for grabs… but we hold the verdict. We choose. We can either choose life, or death…the route to which I was nearing.
My story has the length that can orbit the world twice… which is rather drawn-out, so I will recede for now.
    Thank you Lord for rescuing me.

Unforgettable Life-changing Experience

The Taj Mahal

 What I thought would be my last day in India, after spending nearly a month and a half on the project, and 2 weeks drifting around the dynamic and remarkable country of India like a nomad, I am in transit from Agra ( where the Taj Mahal is located) back to New Delhi. I am in booked in coach, and let it be said coach is the LAST place you want to find yourself aboard an Indian train. It is CRAZY! Jam packed and filled to the brink with bodies, luggage, crying naked babies, sweat, and filth. And all I could do was smile and find myself perfectly delighted and detached from my cozy comfort zone that was thrown away when I first landed in this foreign realm of a dream. So I board the train in a frenzy with my bulky 50+ pound army bag, my guitar and my shoulder bag and I luck out with getting a window seat. A metal bench you would find in the nose bleed section of a stadium was where I had to park my rear for 6 hours. And this bench that was suitable to sit 2, made room for a total of 5. Which, I had to lay my guitar over the lap’s of my fellow comrades because there was absolutely no room anywhere else. It was redonkulous.

Train Station in New Dehli

So I’m sitting super close to my neighbor who notices I have a cut on my knee that is bleeding and I’m completely unaware of my laceration at all. He gets my attention by looking at me like he had all the concern in the world for my cut…and he starts talking to me in Hindi. I quickly respond with a line I became very familiar with in Hindi… “ I don’t speak Hindi very well, do you speak any English?” He shook his head no and pointed to my knee. I became embarrassed at first because it was bleeding quite a bit and if I saw that on a stranger I was virtually clinging to, I would look at it in disgust. I waved my hand like no biggie, and I attempted to wipe it off with my shoulder bag strap ( nothing else in my vicinity could do the job). But before I could mange to smear the blood down the rest of my leg, he whipped out this ointment that was in a small, circular casing ( almost looked like Carmex…the chap stick) and dipped his middle-finger in it and reached down for my leg. I didn’t flinch. I wasn’t concerned with germs. I wasn’t fearful of what this balm was intended for or where it’s been. I watched as he applied this ointment to my open and bleeding lesion like this was something he did everyday. He closed the cap, wiped his hands on his pants and quietly folded his hands on top of my guitar case and smiled. It was like a soccer-mom with a bag full of band-aids and Neosporin ready to take on every cut and scrape for any kid who needed healing.

Inside the "Baby" Taj

It was radical. That 5 minute encounter with a stranger who graciously befriended me with kindness and compassion is #2 on my lengthy list of why my life will never be the same. It moved my soul and made the once blurry canvas of unconditional love and wholesome benevolence vividly clear to me.

You Are Here...

I am here, in the state of Kentucky that has become a black hole. This state has clinched my ankles and has held on for all of my life. I’ve been to different places, visited different countries, had a few opportunities to move but sadly, each of them fell threw (not on my part!!)…and still, after 26 years, I’ve always found my way back to good ol’ Kentucky. In retrospect of the places I’ve seen and the environments that I’m thankful not to be in, it’s a good place. Beautiful scenery, 4 seasons, the choice of a city life or a country life, and the people, for the most part, can be genuine and pleasant.

I struggle with my depiction of this state because I’ve been confined here for so long. Living here seems to only put limitations on my spontaneous and unstructured way of living, my enormous craving for adventure and my passion for people, culture and traveling. BUT, I am trying to be content with where God has me, after all, He is the captain of this vessel, and there is rhyme to His reason, even if I don’t understand why.

So, to answer this question geologically…I am currently within the county lines of Scott County. Georgetown is where home base is for me; including my dad and brother who live with me…or I live with them, and the rest of my family that decided to migrate here as well. This city has a total area of 13.7 square miles, population 30,000 and something and the only reason it exists on a map is because of the Toyota plant that was built in the year I was born – 1986.

          So here in Georgetown, as I mentioned, I live with my Dad and brother. My Mom and Step-dad own a construction company Newhavenhomes.biz and my brother became one of their patrons by building a house under their task force last October. With my brother and father’s blessing, the tenure of the master bedroom became mine! A realm of peace and harmony endowed with its own bathroom, shower, walk-in closet and a toilet seat that would always be guaranteed to be down. I have a pretty good setup I will admit, to which I am so incredibly thankful for.

          I’ve never lived in a new house before. I grew up in a nice house, not new but very homey and comfortable. After I graduated high-school I was headstrong about my independence and made the dumbest decision ever, and that was to move out with a couple friends. Ever since then, its always been apartments and town-homes for me, with the most recent place of residence being a 1900’s farmhouse that was divided in half to accommodate 2 living quarters. That place was not well kept prior to moving in so it was literally falling apart after our 3 years of occupying it. I’ve moved 13 times in the last 10 years. And of course, all still within the state of Kentucky.

          So I am here, living with the greatest big brother in the entire world, under the watchful eye of my beloved Father, with the best sidekick daughter/dog on the planet, and all of my immediate family within a 10 minute drive. I am truly blessed to be here, where I am, even if it’s in the state of Kentucky.

Couchsurfing

James 2:15-16 If a brother or sister is without clothing and in need of daily food, and one of you says to them,” Go in peace, be warmed and be filled,” and yet you do not give them what is necessary for their body, what use is that ?”

I am a proud member of www.couchsurfing.org which is an online community that has millions of members spread across 230 countries around the world. This site provides travelers the opportunity to find people that offer (for free) their homes near or along their way to wherever trekkers are going.

I came upon this site back when I was watching the TV series Around the World For Free a few years ago and lost track of it as time went on and started school and began 2 jobs.

However, I renewed my membership about a month ago since I now have a stable living environment that could offer hospitality to people seeking a place to stay. On Saturday I was working my weekend job and received an email with a message from a fellow couch surfer that was passing through Georgetown with his friend on their bicycles.  They were traveling from Indianapolis with their final destination as California… ON THEIR BICYCLES!

Thankfully within the message they wrote their number so I gave them a quick call and talked with a worn out and exhausted guy who had rode 300 miles already with his sidekick.  He and his buddy were desperate for a shower and a place to sleep. I told him that I was working at the moment, but could talk to my boss about leaving a little early, (the UK vs. Louisville game was on and our restaurant doesn’t have a single TV) so that I could come pick them up and bring them to my place. He was extremely grateful for getting back to him because I haven’t been on in a few weeks and if someone hasn’t logged on to the site, the likelihood of them being able to host is small.

I got off the phone and was about to persuade my boss that #1: There is no point of anyone working, or the restaurant even being open for that matter, because at the time (6:00 PM) the place was empty. #2: I have these two guys who have ridden their bikes for more than 300 miles and they NEED ME, when suddenly I realized… I don’t live alone. I have roommates. And these roommates are my family…not just family…but my Father and older brother. Oh boy. I thought to myself, “This is a pickle.”

My heart sank because I already told these guys that I would help them out by staying at my place…without telling my dad or brother. Come to think of it, when I renewed my membership, I didn’t even mention it to them that I was volunteering our home for hosting people around the world. Whoops.

With my head down I called my brother. But to my surprise, he took it quite well J It was only for one night, I told him they would be using my room and bathroom, and to have a heart- these guys are practically penniless, have no where else to go and have been pedaling their tired legs out for almost 2 weeks now.

Thankfully the talk with my boss went just as well and I was able to leave early so I could get home and clean up before I picked up the 2 guys, Pat and Bill. I came home and before I could further explain myself, they sat me down and had a serious talk about the dangers of strange boys. I nodded my head, understood and respected where they were coming from and told them they were my age and seemed pretty cool and down to earth.

My brother and my dad were awesome about helping me clean up the house in preparation for our two guests soon to be arriving.  My dog has a bed perched in my room that we moved to my brother’s room and I was going to bunk with dad as long as he used his sleeping machine that quiets his snore and allows for a more restful sleep. He snores like an obese cow that is stuck on the ground attempting to get up. So unless he uses his magic machine, I was going to be a very unhappy camper.

Time rolled around for me to pick them up and my brother wanted to go so I obliged and eagerly went out the door while texting Bill that we were on our way. They weren’t but a 5 minute drive away so we got there in good time, and as we pulled up I saw 2 short guys standing with 2 bikes carrying what looked like back-packing bags on their backs. It was nighttime so I couldn’t see very well, considering it’s probably illegal that I drive at night without my glasses (but I was still wearing my glasses haha)

We jumped out and introduced ourselves and helped get their bikes in the back of my truck. I was so happy to get them out of the cold and into the cab. Last week was in the upper 70s and of course when these guys are passing through, the weather drops down almost 20 degrees.

We got back to the house and let Bill and Pat get settled in. It was so much fun showing them their room and where the bathroom was.  I felt like I was an employee of a hotel. I laid fresh towels and washcloths next to the sink and two water bottles on the bed, I was even going to write out how to use the remote but my brother stopped me by shaking his head and saying “You’re stupid!!” It’s an expression he uses quite often with me, but when he says it its sooooo funny!!! J Because whatever I’m doing at the moment to make him say that, is usually because I’m doing, or thinking of doing something ridiculous or redundant.

After a short while Bill and Pat sat down with the 3 of us and we had the greatest time getting to know them! They were roommates who were planning this trip for a while, but their eviction notice on their apartment compelled them to depart much sooner than expected. So the backpacks that I saw them wearing over their shoulders when I pulled up, are all that remains of their possessions. But they seemed okay about it- they weren’t sad or angry, but rather took on a simplistic mentality that all that they really need can fit within the bags that they carry.  Kudos.

When I went to India for 2 months-I should have listened to my brother’s familiar shout “You’re stupid! “Because I decided to pack and haul a massive 50 lb army bag, a guitar and a carry-on bag with me throughout the second most populated country in the world. Bill and Pat are doing it right ! Haha

It was incredible to see and hear of these two young men (26 and 21) abandoning everything and everyone they know to catch the trade winds of courage and embrace the liberty of the open road. No time schedule, no set destination (other than to get to the state of California), and no money. Their spirit was refreshing just to be around.

I felt bad for keeping them up – I could only imagine how much they were looking forward to getting a good night’s sleep considering this was the first and only house and bed they’ve been able to stay at and sleep in on their trip.  By 1:00 AM my dad and brother had already gone to bed so being the hostess, I wasn’t going to bid them goodnight until they were ready to go to bed. They brought wrapping paper and tobacco, rolled themselves a cigarette and were off to bed shortly after.

When I initially discovered that they were riding their bicycles to California- over a 2000 mile bike ride, I thought these guys were legit bikers with the necessary skill level to go about this huge endeavor with the proper gear and training. Bill and Pat had good bikes, expensive I was told, but not at all the athletes with the cycling background I expected. And I certainly didn’t expect for this bike ride to be their approach to moving across the country. But I know what it feels like when you start having the itch beneath your feet so I, in spirit, knew where they were coming from.

We all aimed to get up around 9:00AM…I was the first one up at 11:00 haha J It was Palm Sunday so as I brewed the coffee, I turned on KLOVE and started up breakfast. I didn’t want to wake anyone up intentionally; I wanted everyone to get up at their leisure so that they would wake up well rested. Thankfully as soon as the bacon was frying the boys (I’ll refer to my dad, brother, Pal and Bill as that seeing as I’m the only girl in the house) one by one came and sat down for breakfast. I knew Bill and Pat had a long day ahead of them so I was sure to make a hearty breakfast.

I told them we don’t believe in leftovers so after a few servings of eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, hash browns and fruit, they began packing up while my brother (who is an outdoorsman to the core) offered some insight and guidance, then gave them some camping supplies he thought they could benefit from because of their lack of cargo. They wanted to head into Lexington to find somewhere that had WI-Fi before they headed on the road, so I offered to drop them off on UK campus.

As Bill and Paul were saying their thank you’s and goodbyes to my brother and Dad, it started pouring down rain. It started out kind of hazy but the forecast only put rain at 20% for the day. Paul had already put the bikes in the back of my truck, and none of their stuff is waterproof so he hurried out to take off their sleeping bags and I went behind him with an umbrella. I could tell that Paul was getting frustrated and upset. The knot that he tied them in wouldn’t budge and it was pouring down rain in the cold! I felt terrible so I handed him the umbrella, climbed in the truck and untied the knot. We finally got the situation under control and Bill ran from the front porch and jumped in the truck. I started the truck and began to apologize for the rain and the false weather report I gave them over breakfast.

I put it in first gear and before I gave it gas, my brother came over to Bill’s door, opened it and gave them 2 North Face waterproof jackets that he bought a few months ago. Bill and Paul were all smiles…so was I. It was a simple exchange of clothing from someone who had them, to someone who needed them. But it was felt on a deeper level for me personally, and the amount of gratitude from Bill and Paul when we pulled off made me think it touched them in a profound way too.

I was trying to play a knowledgeable spokesperson while driving through Lexington, but was terrible at it because I could hardly remember street names. I actually had to stop and ask somebody where the library is on campus. Thankfully as we pulled up on campus, it stopped raining and the sun finally came out. It made me feel better about dropping them off, knowing that the weather conditions better accommodated 2 guys riding their bicycles.

After a few U-turns and wrong turns, we arrived at the library. I climbed in the back of the truck and helped unload their bikes and get everything strapped in and ready to go. Before I said goodbye, I handed them the book The Shack written by William P. Young. I read the book a few years ago, and it changed my life…so I wanted to give them the chance to read it as well. They said they have been reading Huckleberry and Fin under bridges and next to fires, so I figured this would be great reading material for them, especially when time is on their hands and they can think about what’s written on the pages as they are riding.

We said our goodbyes and I gave them my last and final piece of encouragement. Something was said along the lines of embracing this epic, once in a lifetime experience…something like that. Paul then gave me a bracelet their friend made back home and wanted me to have it...and it was brilliant. Not only do they have the book to remember me and my family by, now I can remember them with this beautiful hand woven pink bracelet. We hugged and I saw to it that they were able to get in before I drove away.

It was one of the coolest experiences I’ve had in quite a while. My ultimate place of happiness is when I’m serving and helping others. And I felt like I was an advocate to their vision on this voyage. And I’m convinced that this will be more than just a trip across the country for them, but a monumental era in their lives full of self-discovery, ruin, renewal, challenges, setbacks and triumphs. That is one of the reasons why I gave them the book The Shack, so that along with these growing experiences, it can be a spiritual awakening as well. This kind of trip is prime soil for the seed of faith to grow.

I went back home and sat down with the 2 greatest men in my life who I love and admire with all of my heart. I was so appreciative off all that they did and how they supported me and were just as willing as I was to open our home to people who needed a place to stay even though they were strangers at first. I even brought up the idea of turning our 3 bedroom, 2 bath home into a bed and breakfast!!! I would be the brains of the operation. My Dad laughed and shook his and guess what my brother said…?  “That’s stupid!!”

One day…maybe …

James 2:15-16 If a brother or sister is without clothing and in need of daily food, and one of you says to them,” Go in peace, be warmed and be filled,” and yet you do not give them what is necessary for their body, what use is that ?”

Crazy Kid Syndrome

I  consider myself to have quite a well-rounded background of childcare; I was a babysitter for my summers when I wasn't old enough to have a job, I volunteered at my church for childcare up until I was in middle school. I was a camp counselor at a day care in Lexington a few years back which transitioned to after-school coordinator when the summer was over. I was living with a boyfriend and his parents who's sister was a drug addict. She had two precious kids who were being neglected and forgotten because of their mother's bad drug habits. The state finally intervened and gave primary custody to my boyfriend at the time's parents. Helping out with the kids came with the territory of living in the same house. But it became much more than just helping. My role was quickly changed from mere "helper" to role model, teacher, disciplinary, maid, confidant and friend. This investment in their lives continued for a couple of years till their mom got her life turned around and has now become a great mother.
I am now a proud Didi (Aunt) to my sister's beautiful 3 year old daughter. She is freakin amazing. When she was a newborn, my sister and her husband were also battling drug addiction. It took a while (too long in my opinion) before they both realized they had a problem that was affecting their daughter (amongst other things), and they decided to enter a rehab program. Custody of my niece was evenly divided into our family and we all had the honor of watching her grow in ways only parents get to see. My sister and her husband don't have a happily ever after ending, but as for my sister, she is sober, and is the absolute best Mom who is one of my biggest inspirations. 
I am also a small group leader for a bunch of 8th grade girls at my church. And my role in their life is also one of great diversity. Therapist, mediator, teacher, counselor, adviser, role model and friend. Its been such an honor leading these girls into fellowship with the Lord, but it can be wearisome keeping up with their busy lives full of boys,school, sports, home life, and all the workings that go on in the world of an teenager.
Lastly, I'll mention my full-time work as an in-home nurse. I am with a client who is from Egypt, lives with his wife, son, daughter in law and 16 month old niece at his son's house. Arabic is their primary language and only his son is fluent in English. Its a complicated situation, one that can fabricate a blog of it's own. But nutshell version- my client's son leaves for work in the morning, his wife drives him and stays with him during the day, and I spend all day with my client, his wife, and their granddaughter.  It is no easy task.
So I am in essence a caregiver and babysitter at my job.
I get barraged with questions all the time "Do you have kids?" No. "Do you want kids?" No. "How about in the near future?" No. "One day?"Ummm...maybe.
And my responses certainly are not because I dislike kids. I enjoy them very much and they are a delight to be around ( most of the time). I respond to these questions as so because I feel like I've had my fair share of parenting without even being a legit parent. 
This 18 month old little girl who I will refer to as Sara, has given me the hardest time out of all the kids on my lengthy timeline. When I met her, she had the biggest smile and a cute innocent personality. Months later, she still has a gorgeous smile, but is the polar opposite of innocent. She is like a Tasmanian Devil with a a scream that will make you want to pull the hair out of your head and use it as ear muffs. It is freakin insane. Never in my life have I heard a kid whine,scream,nag, or throw as many fits and tantrums as this chick. And I've carefully investigated and formulated a reason as to why.
 She is not being raised. The reigns of her parents have been handed over to her which has given her full authority and rule over everyone and everything in this house. They do not tell her no, they do not let her cry, they do not let her fall down and pick herself back up, they do not have her on any kind of sleep schedule, they do not give her boundaries and do not pay attention to what she does on a daily basis. 
Oh but I do, and she has rule and authority over everyone BUT me. Its quite comical because if she is doing something wrong ( lets say for instance sitting in the kitchen with a pack of crayons drawing on the tile floor-true story) as soon as I walk over, she will let go of the crayon and start BALLING CRYING !! I take it away, tell her no, then go about my business. She would learn very quickly that crying doesn't mean jack to me, and that she could cry all day if she wanted to...but unfortunately her grandma comes over picks her up and gives her cookies to quiet her.
I understand she wants her to stop crying, but the root of the problem is that now when she cries- she thinks she can have whatever she wants ! And if you heard just one of her shrieks that she lets out (say for example she can't get one of her play boxes open- true story) you would want to shut her up too. But its a vicious cycle. 
I feel like God tests me and my patience everyday that I am there with her. And its hard because I'm not family, I'm not in a position to punish or discipline, and its been an effort on all of their part to make Sara act the way she does- because she has been sanctioned by all of them.
So I'm left with trying my best to instill manners and behaviors that are acceptable. And my best is limited because it's not just me watching her, I'm accompanied by her grandma who is a complete softy and who doesn't have the energy to raise her granddaughter. Which is completely understandable when shes raised 4 kids herself, and is now wholeheartedly devoted to the care and unconditional provision of her husband.
At the end of the day, I am exhausted and drained...mentally, emotionally and physically. I'm not quite sure how much longer I can just sit back and watch Sara act out the way that she does and to see her Grandma have to watch and provide for her and her husband simultaneously. Maybe I need to confront my client's son and wife, because it's too heavy of a load for her to carry when I'm only in a position of helping her and her husband.