What I am afraid of, is my mom's house. She is a compulsive hoarder .
Going back home, I have to face this house, and this problem.
I'm going to be very honest with you, this is like having to dig through the dumpster of your own life, plus ten.
My mom is still functional, and trying to move out of her house, but I can only imagine the struggles she is enduring, to make some kind of movement.
If she isn't out of there, by the time I come to town, I'll do everything I can to help.
And hope, that I don't help too much.
My mom's nickname is what makes the "bee" part relevant. No, I'm not afraid of bees, but let's just say I cultivate a healthy respect!