No Home To Go Home To ... And I'm Sorry

So my sister left early this morning.  It really was nice to see her, even if we don't talk online and, of course, I saw her over Christmastime.  I had to orient my week around her even though I had plans, but that's what you do for family, good, upstanding family.  And while she left a pile of clothes and dishes to clean, it made the house less empty and lonely.

One of the only things I didn't like, to be honest, is all the gossip she soaked up and spewed in my direction when she was visiting family members.  I hate hearing how so-and-so secretly hates so-and-so; it may be true, but I don't want to hear it, you know?  But more concerning is hearing how certain family members are in trouble.  Health is one thing; I have many elderly relatives and they're getting up there, and any sad information about them is something that I have to know, no doubt.

However, shelter is another thing.  I have a couple of people who live in an apartment and the new landlord is jacking up rates.  They've been there for a long time, but it looks as though they might move.  I have never known them living in another place, and it's jarring for me to think about them living somewhere else.  So it must be terrifying for them.  As far as I know, the apartment they've been living in has been safe all these years.  There is no guarantee they'll find another spot in a good place.

And yet ... I heard, through my sister, that these family members have asked other family members if they can take them in.  And I would love to, but ... there's also that damn "but," isn't there?  As empty and lonely as this house may be, I cannot even imagine a scenario where they would live with me.  I have the run of the place and I want the run of the place.  I can throw my mail on the dining room table, and my clothes on my bedroom floor.  And masturbating?  Can't do that with them in the house.  That would be awkward as hell.

And yet ... if they have nowhere to go but an area that is so dangerous, I have no choice -- do I?  Father and I have talked about this, and as long as my parents are alive and have any say in who stays in this house, they aren't moving in.  I think; Father is as sentimental when it comes to family as I am, and he might eventually give in and take them in if need be.  If it were up to me, well ... I would hate to see them fend for themselves, and yet I hate losing my privacy.

It is heartbreaking and frightening to not know where you can rest your head day after day.  Will I do anything about it if someone in my family faces that possibility?  Possibly not, and that may be my failure of moral character.