There are few things in life I hate worse than asking for help, so I'm anything but happy to be writing this. But desperate times call for desperate measures, so here goes.
More below the fold.
Update: Thanks, guys. Just... thanks.
Since December, I've lost my job and learned that my 79-year-old mother is suffering from a degenerative disease that is going to render her physically incapacitated at some point in the future -- I don't know exactly when.
What I do know, from having spent a week with her last month, is that it would be unwise for her to continue to live alone for much longer. She might be okay for another six to twelve months, but absolutely no longer than that. She still gets around pretty well, but she's starting to need help with those pesky activities of daily living. She tires easily and is becoming increasingly frail.
She's also depressed, and who can blame her? This is someone who's had the energy of a thirty-year-old, and who could run circles around me, right up until the symptoms of this disease started showing up about six months ago. Suddenly she's feeling her age, and then some. Hell, it depresses me, too.
Plus I have my own problems -- no job, few prospects, insane competition for the few jobs that do exist out there in my field, and nothing to indicate that things will pick up anytime soon.
I live 1500 miles from her. She's in San Diego, I'm in Seattle. I've lived here for nearly two decades. It's my home.
But job prospects here are anything but rosy, and my combined unemployment benefits and savings will only go so far in keeping my roof over my head.
My mother wants me to come to San Diego and move in with her. In some respects it'd be a good move for me as well as for her. I could put my house on the market, or find a renter, and mooch off of her for a while until I find work in San Diego. She'd have some help around the house. I'd suffer from less financial stress. She's financially comfortable and I could live rent-free for as long as I need to.
But I'd be leaving my home behind, quite probably forever. The thought of it saddens me beyond my ability to say. I love my home and I love my city. Moving in with my mother is not going to be a bed of roses by any stretch of the imagination -- I have no illusions about this. It's going to be unbelievably difficult, and not just because of her illness. She and I have always had one of those difficult relationships.
But I guess I have to do what I have to do. I have a piece of paper stuck to the wall next to my computer that says this:
It couldn't be more clear.
Every morning we just have to wake up and begin again.
Every day the only thing we have to do is the next right thing.
She's got no one but me to step up and help her. I have siblings, one of whom is already in California, but they have made it quite clear that they don't intend to inconvenience themselves in order to help her out.
So - here's where I ask for help. I have one contact in San Diego - an old friend from grad school - but that's it. If I make this move, I have to find a job there as soon as possible, not only because I need the income but also because I need to be able to get out of the house and do something productive every day; if I don't, I tend to lapse into these pits of depression that can be extraordinarily difficult to climb back out of .
I'm looking specifically for finance jobs in nonprofit organizations. So, if any Kossacks out there have contacts in the San Diego nonprofit community, and if you're willing to facilitate introductions and/or circulate my resume and/or whatever the spirit moves you to do, I'd deeply appreciate it. You can e-mail me at the addy in my profile.