Tiny House Kingdom

When I was really young, maybe in kindergarten or so, my mom's childhood friend decided to finally to leave her abusive husband. Even though the woman had family in the area, the woman and her two daughters came to live with us for a while.

I have no idea how long they stayed with us; I was a youngster with a skewed concept of time. It may have been weeks or months. I know it was long enough to enroll the daughters in school, but after they moved out, they moved around the corner from us.

The house I grew up in was very small. It barely/sort of had 3 bedrooms. The bedroom on the first floor was my parents' room. It was off of the dining room, and it was tiny. When I say it was tiny, I mean it measured 7'x7'. My parents somehow fit a full-sized bed and a dresser in there. Of course, two people couldn't stand up in there at the same time, but from the time I was 6 months old until my dad passed away, my parents shared that room.

Downstairs was fairly spacious and comfortable (well, except for that room). A good-sized living room, dining room, and kitchen. We had one bathroom, an alcove/pantry and a small room that had the washer and dryer.

Upstairs, there was one actual bedroom that was a nice size, maybe 12x12 or so. It had a door and was an actual separate room. Then, there was another room of pretty good size, but you had to walk through that room to get to the upstairs bedroom. That was the entire upstairs. Well, except for the little “cubbies” on either side of the house that we used for storage. The cubbies were narrow little spaces, maybe 3 feet wide by about 4 feet tall at the highest point.

So my mom's friend and her two daughters came to live with us for a while. The girls were just slightly older than I was. If I was 4 or 5, they would be maybe 7 and 9. I thought it was great fun to have “sisters” temporarily. Only as an adult did I realize how crowded it must have been. I don't ever remember my mom complaining. Maybe she did and I was too little to notice, but even in later years when we'd talk about the family living with us, she never spoke of it bitterly.

My mom was like that, though. She was always doing for people, helping other people. If you needed it, and she had it, she would share it with you or give it to you. She really was a kind and generous soul.

And I miss her. I will always miss her.

On a happier note, I have 3 ½ days (7 doses) of Tecfidera under my belt. All of the mild to horrid side effects I've read about have bypassed me so far! While it might be too soon to declare victory, right now, I'm happy. From what I've read, the people who experience the side effects get them right away. I guess we'll see what happens next week when I go up to the full dose.