birthday wishes

today is my birthday

I feel young and light of foot

I have everything a girl could dream of: fantabulous daughter, the best boyfriend ever, 4 great dogs, a home, family, good work.


So I want:
1) the war to be over
2) safe haven for the homeless (animals and people)
3) Kerry to be elected

My uncles were wrong - they warned that when I got "older' I would be more conservative. Each year I become more progressive politically.

wolves and lambs, mostly lambs

it's shameful, wrong and sad, but mostly shameful that so many of the homeless are mentally ill. This week brought it home.
We close at 2:00. By 3:00 we are often still open, cleaning, talking, wrapping things up. On Wed. at 3:00 I was trying to figure out what to do about C. and G.

C, 21, is a brilliant pianiist. I know because she plays at the center a lot. She doesn't know how she knows how to play. She just plays. She doesn't know where her family is or their names. On some days she isn't sure of her own name. I'm not a clinician, not skilled in psychology, but if I had to guess I would guess schizophrenia. She is tiny, carries her stuff, bags and bags of stuff around downtown Austin.

G is convinced that if he blinks his eyes the world will end, unless he wills it not to end. He remains still because if he moves, the movements he makes today could kill someone tomorrow. He seems nice enough, but he might be dangerous, to himself, to others.

My hands are tied. The police can do nothing for these two, and others who struggle with similar issues, unless they hurt somenone. Mental health facilities are full and you can check yourself out and have no money for meds and be lost once again in the dark space of your own mind. It takes a year to get to the top of the SSI list and receive Soc. Sec.

I sent them both off with peanuts, applesauce, crackers, wishing I had instead a few psychologists and a room in a beautiful park-like sanctuary for them.

I don't believe we can save the homeless. I don't know if the Universe, God or the Saints are looking out for C and G (and many like them). I know the poor will always be with us.

The question is how do we fill the gaps so the mentally ill get the care they need? Can we call our society compasionate, or even civil, while this continues?

Voting and the homeless

I am always full of stories after a day at the homeless center -

J. came in the afternoon. He waved some papers at me. While J. was stuck in San Antonio for a few weeks, his voter registration form was deemed "incomplete". He showed me a complete set of IDs and said he couldn't understand what else he needed. I called voter Reg. office and we learned that the deputy who helped J. fill out his form made an error. So, J. can't vote. He worries his heart trouble may keep him from voting for Pres. in 08.
He said he was gonna study up on it and vote for the best man running. So if you think your vote doesn't count this November, think of J. He wanted to vote, he can't. Vote for him.

healing on time

Though I really wanted a blog of my very own, I've been slow to post. It's tiring to type w/1 hand, but I'm getting used to it.

I go to the neurologist on tues. I'm, sure he'll tell me that my nerves will heal in time, and I'll nod and politely say 'thanks, here's 500 dollars." I have insurance that costs a lot yet each year the benefits dwindle. I'm lucky to have it at all, and goodness knows that if I were Queen of the Universe, health care would be accessible to everyone, every single person. I would figure out how to make this happen, I'm quite the problem solver.

I already know that my nerves will heal in time. Mine have done it before, we know the routine. They grow 1 inch /month, this means that my sleepy little finger will have a rebirth in 6 months. My boyfriend and I did a nerve test w/a paper clip and I started feeling the point just a bit away from my wrist - 6 inches=6 months. If the neurologist tells me different, I'll ...Well, I'll be surprised.

Speaking of rebirths - at the homeless center, I saw one...
When I first began as "Wednesday girl" as they call me, on my very first full day, I met a lot of people, many I now call friends. I look forward to seeing them each week, I worry about them if they aren't there.
S. however, was a bit of a challenge. On that first day, she wandered in with all the others when the doors opened, and she sat on the chair by my desk. She muttered under her breath, "stop lookin at me bi*&h, f&*k you, what you lookin at?" I would just tell her I was sorry and go on about my business. Another volunteer came in and told me S. was actually "banned". They said to watch out cause she hits people, hard.
I just let her sit there and left her alone except
to bring her cookies and lunch.
On my second week she came back and she was again muttering angrily, this time she kept saying how bad we all smelled. I didn't tell her that it was actually her that smelled so bad. I heard more stories about her, how she was in the psych hospital until they could no longer keep her legally, then they'd let her out and she would slide back into her own private turmoil. Still she didn't scare me, I figured this was just part of the learning. It would be two weeks before I'd see her again.
Last Wed. I heard a voice I recognized, but I couldn't place the face. The Priest had the same reaction when a clean, well dressed, impeccably groomed woman came up and said "Hello". I asked her what her name was and it was S. She laughed at us. She was off crack and on her meds. She did it all by herself, though with the help of some fabulous underpaid caseworker.
You see a lot of disappointed, sad, ill people at a homeless center. You love everyone of them and you cannot, fix, save or heal them. You learn that often the best thing you can do is to keep the doors open and keep the conversation and cookies flowing. Last week I learned that healing happens whether I do anything or not, I just open the doors. It's pretty wonderful to see.