There is a small part inside that wants to call Ricky’s mother and ask how they are. I haven’t heard from them in a while now, but I don’t know if that is a good thing or not.

Usually I hear from them when they need something. A roof, money, a ride somewhere. I’m just one of the many people on her list to call, and if I don’t answer the phone she moves on down the list.

Somehow she has found a boatload of people to help her. I don’t know if they’ve all gotten burned out being her lifeboat. I know I have. And I know better.

We don’t communicate with each other - The other boats and I. Her ‘associates’ cough up the cash, and take her for rides to the welfare office, or to cash a check.

I’ll usually help if it is around Rick. For instance, if he has to get to the doctors, I’ll take him and then take him out for a meal and to the playground – in effect turning my good deed into a weekend, as she’ll invariably say,

“Thanks, I’ll use this time to...search for a job, fill out my section 8 paperwork, go see my probation officer, fill in the blank… I’ll call you when I’m done”

Last time she did this I gave her forty-eight hours and then told her I’d call social services if she didn’t pick up her kid.

In reality, I wish it would help. I have called social services on this mom. Twice in fact. They say she isn’t neglectful.

I guess she's not neglectful. I've seen a lot worse.

And I'm usually around to take him. But, as I’ve explained in previous posts. If I don’t take him, I’m scared of who will.

Sometimes I’m really not available to help. Once, when I didn’t call her back for a few days, she told me the story of how she’s been homeless, penniless, car-less, at the time of her call, but had called her whole network and now had all three. Thanks, but she didn’t need me.

She was proud of her networking.
What does that make me?

Don’t say it.

I still care.