days go by.

I’ve been sitting on a lot of things recently.
Work is driving me batty. I’m not sleeping well. My mom and immigration.
Money, life, direction, shape, volume…. adjectives and nouns.

I stare at the wall sometimes, wondering what it will be like if my mom is deported, and what that will entail.
I stare at the same wall other times, and am amazed at the ground swell thats come up to support me, her, and fight this. I wonder if I deserve it. I know my mom does, but… where did I get so lucky?

I would in such a world of helplessness if it wasn’t for all of these people.
I mean, I felt alone and helpless when it started, but as its progressed its gotten more and more serious.

I spent 2 hours today helping my mom fill out legal documentation to help line up the facts, and establish a timeline of residency. Its so scary to hear my mom say stuff like “But, I didn’t save the receipts to the rent bills I paid from 92-95, will the believe me when I say I lived there?”

Maybe?

I can’t even begin to imagine what this process is like for someone with no support system, and no real knowledge of how the system works, or any help from anyone in dealing with it.
As an overly educated person who has spent so much time railing at the system for what it does… And having lost count of how amazing the people are who are helping us… I’m lost, and alone in what is washing around me.

The week of thanksgiving this year is the first hearing.
From what I understand the judge can do a few things.
Grant us our day in court to prove that my mom should be allowed to stay here.
Send her packing.
or Dismiss everything.

After living here for 53 years… does someone really deserve this?