One of my online woo-pals is currently staying in a homeless shelter until she gets some life stuff straightened out. And it breaks my heart. Her life so far has seen more pain and struggle in 21 years than I have in 54.
She’s brilliant. Like, seriously brilliant. An amazing creative person who can whip up detailed courses at the drop of a hat, writes like I never will on my best day and thinks in about 300 directions at the same time.
And she can’t quite seem to get things rolling in the right direction at the same time.
My mom lived a life on the edge of financial breakdown for many years. It was through the kindness and financial goodness of her sister that she always had a roof over her head (and a nice one at that) until she went into the nursing home. My mom and dad worked together through a program called “Blind Industries and Services of Maryland” (dad was blind, remember?) and when he died, the job was also gone. Mom floundered around, doing odd secretarial jobs for a while, and finally just gave up, defeated, when she couldn’t find work.
I struggled, too, even though I had consistent work because right after I moved out, my mom lost her job so I gave her one of my two monthly paychecks. How I lived on $600 a month is beyond me but I did for quite a while.
It really wasn’t until I partnered up with Duty that I began to feel comfortable, financially. Both incomes have kept us well supported and even with his one income and my contributions from PI, we do just fine.
I’m not even sure of the point of this post. Mostly, I feel for my friend. I help as I can and she will allow and it seems the best thing I offer her is space to just vent. In many ways, I feel like a surrogate mom to her (hers is kind of shitty) and while she has a lot of friends who support her with love and energy, this seems to be my role. A mom from a distance.
Which, if I think about it, is what I’ve been to many people. The cool aunt. The second mom (hi, Lauren!) The friend who is there to listen and hold space with her heart (and send money if needed).
I know that my friend will be fine. It’s just hard to find your place in the world when you are so not fitting into the box society mandates.
You are a good egg. A good and generous egg. You sent money to help my friend in the Keys pay for his outpatient surgery, even though you only know him through me. That did him more good than you know (or maybe you do know). His online fundraising had slowed down considerably and your bucks generated a few more donations. I think it’s the attention as much as the money. None of us wants to feel forgotten, so THANK YOU for brightening his outlook.
And I’m so sorry about your friend. Some people just don’t have enough skin for this world, and everything seems to have too great an impact on them. This must be monopolizing your thoughts and emotions.