I believe that the vision of walking downstairs to see water literally raining down upon my living room floor will be etched in my memory forever. How did I ever end up in this situation, I pondered. Trapped in a condo with a real problem with no one to save me but myself? I will never forget the e-mail that I received from my mother at 2 o’clock in the morning informing me that she and Dad were separating, that they might lose the foster children that they had been caring for in hopes of adoption, and that they would have to sell the condo that I was living in. Not only was it the day of the football vote, but I was also supposed to give a formal presentation in class the next morning. How is a person supposed to function properly after spending the night in tears? I had never fully appreciated or understood why divorce impacted everyone as it did. I never had proper sympathy for those who have been through it until now. It doesn’t matter if you no longer live at home or not. It does affect you. I nearly bombed my formal class presentation and spent the day in and out of an emotional coma while trying to deal with the football excitement while working on the East Tennessean that night. I returned to my condo very late that night finally sending our paper to print and covering the end of the ETSU Football Saga of 2007. I pulled in the parking lot beside what appeared to be my father’s van. I walked into the condo that had previously been mine ­­- the condo in which I had started a new life for myself, the condo that I had been prepping to share with one of my friends and new roommate in just a few short weeks. A photo that I once had in the kitchen of my young parents smiling and holding me as a baby was now lying face down on the counter. My father was asleep upstairs. He remained my unexpected roommate until the end of the semester, and night by night I dealt with my dad’s severe depression. I tried to help and talk to him, but it all seemed useless. I felt trapped. And keep in mind, I am from Morristown he was driving over an hour to work from Johnson City every single day. When finals were over, in order to salvage the remainder of control I had left in my life, I left for the summer to work out of town, staying with my boyfriend, and occasionally with my mother and sister, over an hour away. I believe that there is a point in everyone’s life, that no matter the nature of their relationship with their parents, they realize that their parents are only human. Humans that make mistakes, even childlike mistakes, just like the rest of us do. This was my point of realization. I watched parents bicker and get each other all upset all summer long. During this time I also witnessed my 17-year-old sister grow wiser and more patient with each passing day as she also dealt with my parents, along with the added responsibility of helping care for the foster children and the pressure from both sides that comes as a result of dealing with joint custody. Halfway into the summer, I bought my condo from my parents. I had saved up a very small down payment and they needed to make a quick sale. Within a few weeks after the sale, dad moved on and found his own apartment, and I moved back in. A short while after my condo purchase, my car died. And after wasting almost $1,000 on repairs, I learned that I would just have to give in and get a new car, dropping what little savings I had left to virtually nothing. Never in a million years would I have ever dreamed I would be here so soon in life, I feel as though I have aged a decade since April. My toilet sprang a leak tonight. I thought I could fix it myself. An hour into it not only did I have water leaking out into the floor of my second floor bathroom but gallons of water seeping out of the ceiling into the living room below with no landlord to call on but myself. Water spots were forming overhead from the damage. The water, too much for my ceiling to handle, found an outlet through my ceiling fan, seeping out from along its contours and on to the floor below. “It looks as though the shit has finally hit the fan,” my new roommate joked. Have you ever heard the old saying: “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade?” When someone figures out what exactly I am supposed to make out of water seeping out of my ceiling let me know. My father seems to have finally found a life for himself away from his former life and the haven of his daughter’s condo. Looking back on things it seems to me that staying there for him, was his inability to admit this was really happening. When he moved away he found acceptance. My mother is going to go through with the adoption of the foster children on her own and has found a new small house in which to live. My father moved into our old house. My sister splits her time between my mother and father’s house, and I, for the most part, am enjoying the fact that my condo finally is mine. Perhaps I was spoiled before. I was used to always having one family to return home to when I visited what I used to call home – and always having my parents to call on, for advice, for help with the condo, and even for financial help. It is amazing how it is all different now. My parents are still there for me, but we are all a little strapped financially. And my parents ask me for more dating advice than I ask them. If it were not for my wonderful sister I think that at times I would lose my mind. But sometimes, when the shit hits the fan, the only thing you can do is duck and cover, and wait for the smoke to clear as you slowly begin to clean up the mess and start again.

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