Life down at the local Fluff-n-Fold is invariably predictable. The working folks come in and out, the homeless folks seem to stick around for a longer period of time.
I've become a bit uncomfortable sitting there on a weekday afternoon, amongst the homeless folks. Don't think that I haven't gone through my stages of trying to talk to them... because I have. But there are a number of things that I can't get past: namely that they are homeless because of their mental state. Someone will seem a glimmer of normal and then WHAM... "Yes, Ma'am... I'm selling my jacket for $3.. I'm on a program, but I really want a beer". The old nearly homeless dude next to me asked if he "had Jesus" and they spouted on about the good Lord, then gave the drunk a $10 bill and said "bring me the change... you'll need your coat."
It's not as hard as it used to be, to ignore these people. I believe they have a right to be there... but I can't let myself be taken in. As I was leaving, the old dude started saying to me "You're beautiful... just gorgeous.... man... so beautiful".
I sat in my car and cried.
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2 comments:
Sis.
What you're describing is EXACTLY why Mom and Dad fought tooth and nail against me being a social worker like I wanted to do since age 13. Funny how it's YOU who's now dealing with this and not me so much.
You are such a beautiful soul, my sweet sister. Remember that quote on the wall of "Teach's" class?
"I am only one, but I AM ONE. I cannot do everything, but I can so SOMETHING."
You can do something, but don't try to think you can do everything, because you'll run yourself into the ground. Remember Bill Murray on Groundhog Day, spending all day and evening with the homeless guy and he STILL died?
I love you, Beautiful!
**hugs**
wow this does bring back "bay area memories" ahh for the mid to late eighties. (sigh)
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