I'll tell you a bit about myself. Something that I've only shared with a couple people in my life. Hopefully you autistic fucks don't dig too much because I'm not trying to out myself. I'll keep details vague. My mother and father should have never had children. Both were drug addicted, alcoholic hippies who didn't have the ability to put anyone before themselves. They split when I was 3. My mom originally had custody of me and my younger sister. She would disappear for days at a time leaving us home alone. My oldest memory comes from that time. She had just gotten home, drunk, with some new guy. I asked for something to eat for my sister, who was a year younger than I. Her boyfriend beat me to the point I could barely open my eyes then threw me in the closet for the rest of the day. Took me well into my 20's to get over the fear of the dark. Nothing good ever came of being in the dark. Not long after that my mom was on another of her sabbaticals. After a few days I'd already gone through the cabinets and fridge. Having opened all the food that I was capable of opening we got hungry. I found some money somewhere in the house so I got on my tricycle and started across the highway to a convenience store. I wound up getting run over. Tire tracks bruised into my back. Knee dislocated and sticking out of my leg. Crushed my liver. It was a hit and run but according to statements it was most likely my mom finally heading home with one of her boyfriends because the truck description. I wound up with pins holding my knee together, half my liver removed and put in a body cast from my neck down. I was in the cast for the better part of a year. I had to relearn to walk. During this time I worried ceaselessly for my sister. I was the one who always protected her from everything and everyone. Despite all, we were not taken away from my mother. About the time I had my cast removed my mother left my sister's (2 now) with some of her friends and left me in an abandoned house. We were eventually put in foster homes. She was determined to have abandoned us and lost her rights. Eventually we wound up with my dad. Including my youngest sister who wasn't his. He cleaned up and quit drinking. Things got better for the most part. After this I had a fairly normal childhood. I didn't see or hear from my mom for about 20 years. I held unto bitter feelings for most of that time. Eventually I forgave her. Not for her, but for myself. The only way to move on was to fully let go. Now I'm approaching middle age and I'm faced with the same decisions you're facing. I'm a better person than either of my parents. Regardless of the past, she is my mom. I absolutely do not want her to live with me, nor would I trust her around my children or property without close supervision. However I don't want her to wind up in a horrible home. No one deserves that. We are white, we must act like it. Have compassion for your parents if for no other reason than because they are the reason you're here. 2 wrongs don't make a right.