I met a young woman, a very pretty young woman. She was 18 at the time. She had an 18 month old son. Maria had been struggling between places to stay. She had become pregnant and the baby's father wanted nothing to do with them.
Maria was limited to the type of work she could do, or to any work for that matter. She had a baby whom she needed to care for. Finding someone to take care of him was difficult. Maria struggled to keep a roof over her head. Maria's mother came up to help her with the baby so Maria could work. Still, it was hard to rent a place they could afford.
Maria worked as hard as she could, but she felt so tired all the time. Maria became thinner and thinner. She managed to stay at a cousin's house where she was given a place to sleep. Maria could no longer work, she was too fatigued. Maria had cancer.
We seldon do house visits, however, we could not get a hold of Maria. We did a house visit at her cousin's house. We went to a very crowed apartment, we were lead to a room filled with clothes from floor to ceiling. There was a path for people to walk through. We found Maria lying on a bed, she was on oxygen. She looked so weak.
We were unsure how we could be able to assist. We are very limited. However, we asked Maria what she wanted to do. She said she wanted to move into her own apartment where she could enjoy her baby. She wanted her mother to come too.
After making several phone calls. We found a landlord who was willing to work with us. He made it easier for us to rent an apartment he had available. This landlord was a fireman.
We were able to move Maria, her baby and mother in. She had a place for people to come visit her. She was able to enjoy her baby a little more. At one point, we went to visit her and saw her baby sitting on her. Maria could no longer sit up to play with him. He was talking to her while sitting on her. Maria looked happy.
Maria passed on two months later. She dyed in her own place. This situation was extremely hard on all of us who worked at the center at the time. We felt at peace knowing we were able to help Maria with her last wish, a place she could call home.
Although I love my job, there are situations that make it extremely difficult, however, I would not trade my job for anything.
Kamala
Monday, December 17, 2007
Friday, December 14, 2007
My Viejitos
A while back I met four men who were in need of it all, you name it, they needed it. They were also homeless by choice. I will call them, Rick and Steve, who were brothers, and Manny and Joe, who were also brothers. They hung around together, looking after one another. They really weren't that old at all, but because of their live style, they looked much older than they were. At that time, I ran the Clothing Bank. They came in frequently looking for warm clothes, backpacks and sleeping bags.
I befriended Rick first. He came into the center for assistance with his prescriptions. He had cancer of the throat. We had assisted him a couple of times but could not continue doing so ongoing. Rick reminded my of my dad. Dad passed on a few years back. Rick was tall and slender, just like Dad. He seemed so fragil, just like Dad. I thought, "he must be a little older than Dad." Dad passed on at the age of 54. I thought Rick might be around 62 maybe 65.
Rick was too fragil and could not work anymore. He wasn't receiving much in benefits. He couldn't afford his medications. I went against our policy and paid for his medications out of pocket. I would go to the pharmacy and pay for the prescription and then Rick would pick them up. I figured I could spend that money in almost anything. Rick did not have other options. I continued paying for his prescriptions for a while. They were not cheap, it was $75.00 a pop. I am not made out of money, but I am a very hard worker. Although I did feel the expense, I would rather feel it in my pocket than in my heart.
I considered having adopted Rick. I called him my 'viejito.' Which translates to 'my little old man.'
Rick, Steve, Manny and Joe hung around together most of them time. If they were not together, they at least knew where each of them were. They would go about their business during the day, and meet in the evening to see where they were going to spend the night. Most of the time it was under a bridge by the river.
I ran the Clothing Bank in the mornings, my 'viejitos' would come by often. They always needed something. I knew this, so I would always put things aside for them. Not just for them, but for people in their situation.
I would often stare out the window and just observe them. They were inseparable. I liked that. They were there for each other. Rick was the grumpiest of them. Actually, he was plain grumpy but I liked Rick.
When ever my 'viejitos' would come to the Clothing Bank, I felt so good about my job. I often found them things they really needed. Their shoes were torn and worn out, I'd find them shoes. They would change into their new shoes right there on the spot. I loved that feeling. They reminded me of little children with a new toy. They seemed just as excited. I loved that warm feeling.
I mostly dealt with Rick as far as financial assistance went. We couldn't do shelter assistance for singles without children. The nearest shelter was a good 15 miles away. All we could do was give them tokens to take the bus out there. Most of the time they opted not to go. Their circle of friends was here. It was not worth it to them to take the bus out there and then take it back in the morning, since you had to be out of the shelter in the morning. This was their home, even if it was on the streets. They slept anywhere as long as they were in a familiar setting. The often slept in tents by the river, on cardboard boxes under bridges, or often wrapped in blankets under bushes.
All four of them had been married at one point or other. They all had children. However, they had also made bad choices. Their desire for drinking was stronger than the desire of keeping their family in tact. Other problems had surfaced because of the choices they had made. Their families had turned their backs on them. The worst of them was Rick, he had cancer of the throat. Joe had other health issues that I still don't know about. Steve has Multiple Sclerosis. Manny seems to be in good health.
Rick passed on two years ago. I thought him to be 62 maybe 65, when he passed I found out he has only 45. Joe passed last year. All I have left of my 'viejitos' are Manny and Steve.
I was able to get them on a housing list. Steve has recetly received housing. Ironically, not much can be done for Manny because he is in good health. What was left of that clan has been separated by housing. Steve has a place of his own but can't bring in Manny. Manny is still out there struggling.
I don't work with Manny or Steve one on one anymore. I do run into them often at the soup kitchen. I try to keep tabs on them. When ever I run into them on the streets, we greet with a big hug. I just wish there was more that can be done, but sometimes there isn't. I hope we don't loose Manny too just because he is in 'good health.'
What I have just written is just things that I have in my head. Memories. I don't ever want to forget my 'viejitos.' I have had a many great experiences, as I have had bad ones. But it's the good ones that have stayed in my head and in my heart.
RIP Rick and Joe. I will never forget you.
Kamala
I befriended Rick first. He came into the center for assistance with his prescriptions. He had cancer of the throat. We had assisted him a couple of times but could not continue doing so ongoing. Rick reminded my of my dad. Dad passed on a few years back. Rick was tall and slender, just like Dad. He seemed so fragil, just like Dad. I thought, "he must be a little older than Dad." Dad passed on at the age of 54. I thought Rick might be around 62 maybe 65.
Rick was too fragil and could not work anymore. He wasn't receiving much in benefits. He couldn't afford his medications. I went against our policy and paid for his medications out of pocket. I would go to the pharmacy and pay for the prescription and then Rick would pick them up. I figured I could spend that money in almost anything. Rick did not have other options. I continued paying for his prescriptions for a while. They were not cheap, it was $75.00 a pop. I am not made out of money, but I am a very hard worker. Although I did feel the expense, I would rather feel it in my pocket than in my heart.
I considered having adopted Rick. I called him my 'viejito.' Which translates to 'my little old man.'
Rick, Steve, Manny and Joe hung around together most of them time. If they were not together, they at least knew where each of them were. They would go about their business during the day, and meet in the evening to see where they were going to spend the night. Most of the time it was under a bridge by the river.
I ran the Clothing Bank in the mornings, my 'viejitos' would come by often. They always needed something. I knew this, so I would always put things aside for them. Not just for them, but for people in their situation.
I would often stare out the window and just observe them. They were inseparable. I liked that. They were there for each other. Rick was the grumpiest of them. Actually, he was plain grumpy but I liked Rick.
When ever my 'viejitos' would come to the Clothing Bank, I felt so good about my job. I often found them things they really needed. Their shoes were torn and worn out, I'd find them shoes. They would change into their new shoes right there on the spot. I loved that feeling. They reminded me of little children with a new toy. They seemed just as excited. I loved that warm feeling.
I mostly dealt with Rick as far as financial assistance went. We couldn't do shelter assistance for singles without children. The nearest shelter was a good 15 miles away. All we could do was give them tokens to take the bus out there. Most of the time they opted not to go. Their circle of friends was here. It was not worth it to them to take the bus out there and then take it back in the morning, since you had to be out of the shelter in the morning. This was their home, even if it was on the streets. They slept anywhere as long as they were in a familiar setting. The often slept in tents by the river, on cardboard boxes under bridges, or often wrapped in blankets under bushes.
All four of them had been married at one point or other. They all had children. However, they had also made bad choices. Their desire for drinking was stronger than the desire of keeping their family in tact. Other problems had surfaced because of the choices they had made. Their families had turned their backs on them. The worst of them was Rick, he had cancer of the throat. Joe had other health issues that I still don't know about. Steve has Multiple Sclerosis. Manny seems to be in good health.
Rick passed on two years ago. I thought him to be 62 maybe 65, when he passed I found out he has only 45. Joe passed last year. All I have left of my 'viejitos' are Manny and Steve.
I was able to get them on a housing list. Steve has recetly received housing. Ironically, not much can be done for Manny because he is in good health. What was left of that clan has been separated by housing. Steve has a place of his own but can't bring in Manny. Manny is still out there struggling.
I don't work with Manny or Steve one on one anymore. I do run into them often at the soup kitchen. I try to keep tabs on them. When ever I run into them on the streets, we greet with a big hug. I just wish there was more that can be done, but sometimes there isn't. I hope we don't loose Manny too just because he is in 'good health.'
What I have just written is just things that I have in my head. Memories. I don't ever want to forget my 'viejitos.' I have had a many great experiences, as I have had bad ones. But it's the good ones that have stayed in my head and in my heart.
RIP Rick and Joe. I will never forget you.
Kamala
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Saying good bye
Today I had to say good bye to someone I knew. I want to say she was a good friend, but I didn't know her that well. I knew her well enough to say she was loyal. I had met her at work, she was easy to get along with. She was very friendly and happy go lucky most of the time. I don't recall ever seeing her upset. She had come in for assistance once in a while, I did all I could for her. She had been sick, she looked different the last day I saw her. She said she didn't feel quite herself. She left and I didn't see her again. Two months later I found out she was found dead. We all asked "what happened?"
This was my friend whom I will call "Sue." I worry about things like this happening. Sue was homeless by choice. She had the means to stay at a desent place, but she chose to stay at a place that would become her deathbed.
I work with people like Sue a lot. I talk to a lot of them, the ones who are willing to share their story. A lot of them choose not to. I worry about them dying and no one finding out. Sue died, and days went by without anyone finding out.
I worry about things like this happening. People becoming seriously ill or even dying. Their families not knowing of their whereabouts. My worst fear is dying alone. Not saying good bye.
This was my friend whom I will call "Sue." I worry about things like this happening. Sue was homeless by choice. She had the means to stay at a desent place, but she chose to stay at a place that would become her deathbed.
I work with people like Sue a lot. I talk to a lot of them, the ones who are willing to share their story. A lot of them choose not to. I worry about them dying and no one finding out. Sue died, and days went by without anyone finding out.
I worry about things like this happening. People becoming seriously ill or even dying. Their families not knowing of their whereabouts. My worst fear is dying alone. Not saying good bye.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)