Son’s family treating parents’ house like their storage unit

Dear Eric: My wife and I uprooted from our rural community and bought a home to be nearer our grown children who had both settled near the city. Soon after, our son and his family of four and dog lost their housing as their rental situation failed after the landowner passed away.

Of course, we took them in, and several months later they found a new situation and moved out. The trouble is they didn’t take all their stuff, and after nine months they seem unable, even unwilling, to do so. Half of my two-car garage is full and a defunct and unmaintained stand-up swimming pool is an eyesore in my yard.

Each effort I have made to discuss this results in me being the bad guy. How can I convince them they are not welcome to use my property as their storage?

— Confounded

Dear Confounded: Send them a bill for storage or give them a deadline.

This won’t keep you from being painted as the bad guy, but it will get your garage back. It sounds like they’re taking advantage of you a bit. And perhaps they are genuinely at a loss as to what they should do for storage solutions. But if they refuse to figure it out with you, or propose alternatives, you’re left with little recourse.

I’m presuming you’ve already talked to them about finding a local storage unit for their things. If not, that’s a good place to start. If you’re so inclined, you might even offer to help them with the cost. But you’ve already let them live rent-free, in addition to holding their belongings for nine months, so unless the situation is really dire, there doesn’t seem to be a reason to extend your generosity.

Should they opt not to move the items, then you have to decide what you can get rid of without causing irreparable strife in your family. (Don’t throw out baby books, please.) Perhaps you work piecemeal, starting with the pool, for instance. If you tell them that you need it out of your yard by a set date, then the day after said date, post it on a Buy Nothing group or call a junk hauler if it’s too far gone.

Dear Readers: The following letter includes a mention of suicidal ideation. Please take care, should you choose to read it.

Dear Eric : At 77 years of age and receiving SSDI, I find myself about to be homeless. The charming house I’ve lived in for 20 years has been sold, my pittance of my retirement dwindles daily, the uncertainty of our government doesn’t help, and I’m just tired.

I have no children. I’ve rounded up the old medication I saved and plan to crawl into bed in a few weeks and really pray that I will overdose to death. I’ve willed my body to one of the med schools so there will be no body or cremains.

I’ve been “getting my affairs in order,” boxed some items and donated a lot more. I feel very calm about this.

I am apologetic about leaving the mess of death to my friends. My family lives on the other coast. How can I leave and apologize for this inconvenience? Should I leave instructions on who to call after I pass?

— Plan

Dear Plan: When you wrote to me, I wrote back to you directly, and I hope that you took this advice. I wanted to share it with a wider readership in case anyone else is in a similar position.

The long and short of it: I beg you to consider another option. I know that the situation you’re in is painful and hard; I understand that you’re tired. I know it must be so emotionally grueling to face the challenges you’re facing. But please talk about what’s going on with the 988 Crisis Lifeline (dial 988, 24 hours a day). There are people who are trained to listen and to talk you through what’s happening. You are not alone and the problems you’re facing, though difficult, are not insurmountable.

You’re asking about how to apologize for the inconvenience of handling your affairs, but wouldn’t your family and friends much prefer the chance to help you now? I know you’re exhausted, but ask those who care about you for assistance — be it with money or a place to stay or just a listening ear.

You are not an inconvenience. At our lowest moments, sometimes it’s hard to remember that we matter. But you do matter. You’re more than a list of to-dos, and you’re more than your worst days. Those whom you love would surely be heartbroken to find they missed out on the chance to show you how much they love you back.

Send questions to eric@ askingeric.com.