It's Been a Minute

  It's been years since I've written a new post. Literally.

My daughter and my sister, and even my oldest son have all been hounding me about cranking up the ole Blogarooney again, so here we go!

I guess I quit blogging when COVID hit, or around that time. COVID was one of those life changing moments, like JFK being shot, MLK being shot, the Vietnam war, 911 and now the Pandemic.  Not a good track record for Mother Earth, but is what it is.

It was hard for me going from working full time to not working at all. Don't get me wrong, I was all for hanging up my serving tray, just had to get used to not having all the money I wanted, whenever I wanted, for whatever I wanted. I spent all my savings helping us to relocate to Orlando, moving is NOT cheap and saving has never been my forte'. Luckily for me it is Tims'. Being a server can get you really spoiled. If there is something you want or someplace you want to go, just pick up extra shifts until you have that money and if you are a good server it usually doesn't take long. On the upside I turned 62  shortly after the pandemic started to wind down and started drawing my Social Security in 2022. 

After being broke for an entire decade we were very conscientious about money and by the time we moved into our home here, we had it paid off in just over two years, had no credit cards, no debts and all our vehicles were paid off. We flipped our house back in Georgia and did a lot of the work ourselves. Not a whole bunch of fun but paid off handsomely in the long run. Sold the house when the seller market was on fire and with the help of a dear childhood friend who is a realtor, sold our old house in about a week if not less. They offered us 5k over our best offer, all cash, no inspection.

Karma is real.

So now we're sitting pretty with no mortgage and everything we need to be happy and then some. If you would have told me life would end up this way back in 2008, I would have laughed...after I quit crying about how in debt we were. But we had a village, we had family and we had friends, even strangers who helped us limp along and allowed us to eventually set the ship afloat again.

It was a pivotable  time in our lives which changed my perspective on everything...and I mean everything.

I've always tried to be someone who helps others, but when you end up being that person who needs help, it reinforces the Golden Rule.

 A little over six months ago I ran across a picture of this woman on a group page I joined years ago on FB. It was from the neighborhood where I grew up. It was brutally cold temps back in Georgia and neighbors were all worried about a woman who had been living under a bridge in their community for several years. People would stop by and check on her, take her some coffee, water or drop off some food. Ms. Cathy was her name.

Ironically enough a former elementary and high school classmate of mine was also searching for her sister at the same time, who fell off the grid after their mother's death eleven years ago. Someone contacted her and said they thought Ms. Cathy may be her long lost sister.

She was. My old friend found her sister under a bridge in our hometown of East Point. The temperatures were in the single digits, She was using a blue tarp as a blanket. 

It was a battle I felt compelled to join. Eleven years on the streets. Holy Guacamole. She doesn't weigh eighty five pounds soaking wet. East Point is literally ten minutes from the heart of downtown Atlanta. How she survived is still a mystery to me.

The wonderful people of East Point started a GoFundMe to get Cathy off the streets and into a warm motel room. That got expensive, and quick. I began sharing the story at least once a day and just like that, my village came back and helped out Cathy this time. Then others jumped on board, spread the word and literally came to her rescue. The hurdles, red tape and criteria for getting off the streets is absolutely useless to a homeless person with no support system or advocate fighting for them. Cathy's sister drove done from her home in Cleveland, Georgia every weekend when she was off work to check on Cathy and take her to file for food stamps, social security and bring her staples. She was staying in a not so desirable place but at least it had four walls, a roof and a door that sometimes locked. An efficiency lodge for $1350.00 a month. We were just spinning on a hamster wheel and bleeding the GFM dry.

Trial and error. Hear of possible subsidized housing only to be told it would take six months if not more to even apply. Finally, after pulling every string we could and reaching out to every person we knew on the city council and in the city administration we got a hit!! The downside was we were low on funds. My former classmate was hesitant about asking for more donations so I did it for her (with her permission) and in a not so quiet way.

We had a move in date! Brand new build for affordable housing for people fifty five and older. Mostly all females, which was good news as Cathy has suffered abuse several times over the years from men. Rent would be $939 a month and included all utilities. They had a gym, a garden terrace, an office center with computer access and her apartment had a washer/dryer hook up in her own laundry room!

They cancelled the move in date after several snafus and paperwork being submitted wrong (on their end). Then we got another move in date and a welcome letter telling her all about how to go about getting the key. Once again, red tape interfered and we were put on hold again. At the very last minute, literally the eleventh hour, we got the go ahead to move her in.

Our advocate from the city for East Point went to the efficiency lodge in her own car, picked Cathy up and took her to the new apartment building to sign the lease and get her key.

Now we're talking!!

Next was the big move in day. My sister, who is an Angel herself had contacted people in her church who donated furniture...tons of it. She also has a painting business and many of her clients offered furnishings as well. My brother donated an antique solid oak queen size bed with a new mattress and box springs and all the bedding. He even had it shipped from Orlando to Atlanta via the freight company he works for. I drove up from Orlando and spent the night before the move with my sister. Some wine was consumed and many laughs were had. The next morning we headed out early to pick up the rental truck. We were originally going to use her husband's truck and flatbed trailer but recently a woman who she painted for also offered us an almost new Speed Queen washer and dryer so we needed more room, plus rain was in the forecast. I put out a post asking for help with the move and of course one of my own village from years ago was the first (and only) to sign up. Our biggest problem was all this was basically orchestrated by several women, the youngest being me at sixty four and the oldest being in their mid seventies. Not exactly muscle material. My friend who signed up showed up that morning with his daughter, I'm guessing fourteen, and off we went! The UHaul got less than a mile down the road before the Low Oil Pressure and Stop Engine light came on. We had to put five quarts of oil in it to even show anything on the dip stick but at least we were back on the road. (an email has been sent to UHaul asking for a refund of $36.00 we spent on oil and a refund of the $15.00 insurance I signed up for in case of damage to the truck, since we did incur a problem but fixed it ourselves.)

Our last stop was for the furniture my brother had shipped up for us to his freight company's Atlanta terminal. The employees were so incredibly helpful and after learning about Ms. Cathy wished us well and said they were honored to help in some small way with her journey.

Arley Cuero, the operations manager who has so far twice battled and beat cancer is the one with the mask, along with the fork lift driver,  Claudio Paredes somehow someway made everything fit in an already jam packed truck. Yes, it takes a village. These Forward Air employees are both getting letters sent to their headquarters about their efforts helping us in Cathy's cause.

Once again, our village showed up.

I told my sister as we finally wound our way to Cathy's new apartment, that God had His hand in this journey today...no doubt.

A wonderful man from the Facebook group showed up to help us unload the truck. He didn't know any of us from Adam but simply said he just wanted to help Cathy.

I've never been so thrilled to see someone with side burns. He and my friend, Dean had everything unloaded and in her apartment in under thirty minutes. I carried a rug, and end table and held the door open several times.

We unloaded and had the truck back to UHaul ten minutes before the return time. This was three o'clock. I dropped off Dean and his daughter (who is amazing) and took my sister back to her house about twenty five minutes away. Loaded up my bag from her spare bedroom and hit the road for Orlando by four thirty. 

The drive from Atlanta to Orlando (MouseTown) is always brutal and often harrowing. My ride home was nothing but easy breezy the entire way. Not one traffic jam or slow down. No wrecks or crazy drivers encountered. I put it on cruise control and rolled into my driveway before eleven PM, and I stopped twice. I usually only stop once.

I think Ole Willie nailed this one on the head, because it has sure been truer than true for me. I was so exhausted that I slept until after noon the next day but thought it was about 9:30 when I woke up. It was a good tired though.

Imagine how Cathy felt waking up under a bridge for eleven years, with nowhere to go...for a bath, a meal or even to relieve herself. 

Of course this has taken a toll on her mental well being (I can't even imagine) but we will continue to assist her to get some help and counseling through local advocacy programs available. 

Cathy needs to realize she is worthy. She needs to realize she matters, she needs to realize we are all here for her, for the long run, no matter how long that may take. It's a lot for her to wrap her head around after eleven years on the lean mean streets.

In the words of Elton John "Someone saved my life tonight."

I really didn't do squat except do the fund raising asks. All my many friends and family and once again even strangers rallied to the call, just like they did for my own family over ten years ago. 

Cathy's sister said she was going to call me the "Facilitator."

I will wear that badge with honor. "You never know unless you ask and all they can say is No" is my mantra.

Say a prayer or just send up some good vibes for Cathy as she navigates going from being  a basically feral person to part of society again.

Because let me tell you a truer than true fact. There but by the Grace of God goes any one of us.

I even received another check for Cathy today, on my birthday in a note from a dear high school friend.

My faith in humanity has been bolstered by this journey and reinforced by the outcome and out pouring of love and compassion for a person in need.

I have decided to start writing and blogging again. Facebook helped me get the word out and help for Cathy, but I simply can't take the misinformation, divisiveness and derogatory comments and memes currently bombarding the site, especially concerning women, immigrants  and race. I liked FB because I am old and knew how to navigate it as compared to IG, Substack and the ole Tickity Tock.

The level of hate and division in this country and around the world is truly too much for me and literally has me in a psychological funk. Sometimes I find myself turning off the television at night (I rarely ever watch during the day) my cell or iPad and simply staring at a wall in the dark, hoping sleep takes over soon. 

Yes, I need to work on my own sanity sometimes and I am not ashamed to admit it.

 The thing I can't get out of my head is blatant misogyny, racism and non inclusion. Hello, United States, we are ALL immigrants unless you are a Native American. You know, the ones we raped, pillaged and shoved onto tiny reservations after we took their land and hauled in slaves to do our dirty work. Am I the only one who paid attention in US History in high school?

Anyhoo, I think my thoughts just aren't suited to the FB Nation anymore and not sure I want to be there anyway. It will take me a minute or two to figure out Substack or talk my daughter into doing a Podcast with me but I will bounce back here and let you all know where to find my written drivel.

Thank You one and all for helping Ms. Cathy. And Thank You for loving me. I love you right back!