It's been a fair few months since my mother died and I'm sad to say that things are not going well. My family always ran like a fucked-up, co-dependent but basically functional jalopy. I was the front wheels. My primary jobs were chores, errands, and working as a commission artist. My BIL, Daniel, was the back wheels. He's developmentally delayed but he's a good boy, capable, and he worked hard. He was responsible for some chores and errands and taking care of his wife (my younger sister) and their child, both of whom are also developmentally delayed. My stepfather, the breadwinner of the family, was the engine. I cannot overstate how pivotal this man has been in keeping the shitshow afloat. I don't know anyone who deserves a long, happy retirement more than him. And then there was my mother, the driver. She steered the shitshow down the long and winding roads. Some months ago, my mother died. Lung cancer. I have been through some next level shit- various kinds of abuse, a murder