Ripples….

Posted by Carey Fuller in elderly | Helping hands | senior citizen - (0 Comments)

Ripples…..

, , ,

Ripples….

Posted by Carey Fuller in elderly | senior citizen - (2 Comments)

Sometimes you are the catalyst that starts a chain reaction that goes out farther than you ever thought possible. On my blog I wrote about an 85-year old street performer I call Rab that many have written to at my request. His loneliness is his greatest sadness and his sadness moved me. Rab calls me often and many times he has mentioned his “spiritual son” who he misses and loves dearly. He wonders how his son is doing and if he’ll ever hear from him again.

While writing up petitions and posts for change.org a message popped up on my screen from wordpress.com then another direct email from a man who identified himself as Rab’s spiritual son. I gave him Rab’s phone number and encouraged him to please, please call as soon as possible. I called Rab and told him that yet another surprise would be coming to him over the phone. Of course, Rab asked if the person to be calling was someone he had spoken to before, I replied that he knew this person but I was not going to tell him any more than that because it would ruin the surprise.

I asked Rab later about his “surprise” and he couldn’t believe that the story I posted about him got to his spiritual son. Rab had not seen his son for over 7 years nor could he believe that his story was seen by so many. I mentioned to Rab that perhaps it would be a good idea to finally become acquainted with the internet because it is a new way to connect with other people and current events.  In return, Rab mentioned to me that he preferred to be called Rabbi. “Ok Rab, from now on its Rabbi”, I replied. I asked him about his surprise phone call and this is what the Rabbi said to me: “Oh, you have no idea! I was so thrilled to hear from him! I have known this boy since he was twelve years old and now he’s in his fifties! I had no idea that it was through you that he got my number. I was so thrilled to hear from him! We exchanged information with each other to keep in touch.” It is my hope that reconnecting with the people he loves the most will help soothe the loneliness the Rabbi lives through every day.

Most of the time I write for myself and if others enjoy reading what I write then I am honored. When I decided to put the Rabbi’s story “out there”, I didn’t know how many pairs of eyes would see it or how far his story would travel but some strange coincidence, his story reached the person it needed to. I have learned that when things seem hopeless or impossible, that’s the time when all things are possible because hope doesn’t mean much if there’s no action behind it. Sometimes little ripples on the surface grow into tidal waves across oceans.

Now if only he would stop asking me to marry him….:)

, , , ,

The war we declare on ourselves

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness | Just for fun | Poetry - (2 Comments)

I look around me and see so many people in pain. Financially we’re all hurting and it’s hard to see brighter days when you don’t know where you’ll end up. Veterans of  a hard life have deeper wounds inside them than most people know about or want to know. I often wonder how they got like that and if it’s possible for those wounds to heal. It is heartbreaking to think that such individuals are forever damaged.

How often do we find ourselves driving down the road of self loathing on our way to a personalized hell we carry around inside of us? It is as though we are addicted to telling ourselves that there must be something wrong with us for not being who we think we ought to be and then projecting that thought process out onto other people.

Of course none of us are perfect and that’s the beauty of being human. If we were perfect I’d be bored out of my head! I like real life, the kind that sometimes burps or farts in public because you can’t hold it in any longer. Let me see you when you’re angry, scared, frustrated, uncertain and depressed. It grosses me out to see people with their fingers up their noses digging for gold while sitting in traffic because they think no one can see them but hey, it’s real! Watching old men in parks scratching their rear ends and not caring who sees them do it is beautiful because in their advanced years they learned that if it itches, scratch it!

Life is messy, raw and sometimes unforgiving however….it is also sexy, loving, nurturing, supportive and downright funny. It’s like that time that bird crap fell from heaven and landed on the shoulder of your brand new coat while taking a stroll downtown and in a haste to get it off you bump into that gal you’ve always wanted to talk to but didn’t think you could and now you’re apologizing and by way of apology you’re talking and then…..you’re sitting at a coffee bar having that conversation you’ve always wanted.

Then there’s those of us whose circumstances embarrass us to the point we don’t want anyone to know we exist so we shut folks out who could be the best friends we’ve ever had. Or maybe we’re afraid to let anyone get too close because getting close means dropping our guard and showing ourselves as we really are, demons and all. Fear of letting love in even though we need it the most is emotional suicide. What is the purpose of beating ourselves up?

If you choose my friendship then there are some things you need to know about me. I don’t judge and I expect nothing from you. If I can help you, I will. I accept you for who you are and will meet you “where you’re at”. You are not the person you were yesterday, and you will be different tomorrow, so will I nor will I hide who I am or what I’m about, that’s a waste of time. Ask me and I’ll tell you but be prepared to receive my questions in return. See me as I am and accept what you see or do us both a favor and walk away. It’s as simple as that!

To those of you who chose my friendship I commend you since once upon a time I used to beat myself up to the point I couldn’t recognize my own reflection but somehow, you saw through all that. It is through looking past the obvious and seeing the real me that taught me to do the same. You may be homeless, down and out but you’re not out for the count!

Thank you for the lessons in humility, acceptance and unconditional love.

Battlefields

The war inside wages doubt, fear and shame

Missiles on self-esteem and courage aimed

Darkness is an ally teaching

Blame

In the same hand lies declare and truce

Hearts and souls to be gained

Poisoned arrows produce

Pain

Conflicts reel imagined pallor

Innocent victim is the transgressor

Infection the belief of

Lesser

Shattered images self portraits fragile

Wounded climbing trenches bleeding

Self abuse the while

Needing

Acceptance’s healing lotions

Covers damages incidental

Medicine non judgmental

Notions

Casualties expected veterans few

Finds the reluctant hero you

Conquering self-made

Battlefields

, , , , , ,

Creating my own opportunities

Posted by Carey Fuller in elderly | Helping hands | Homelessness | Kids | senior citizen | Social media - (0 Comments)

Good ol’ Rab has called me about 17 times so far mostly about loneliness but about the letters he’s begun to recieve in the mail. You see, he has been battling depression for awhile now because he’s been so alone. He filled up the time limit on my voicemail reading back the letters that were sent to him. Hopefully he’ll remember to write back to all of you who took the time send him your regards. A trickle of thought occurred to me while I was listening to Rab’s voice on the other end, one that whispered about creating opportunities where none had existed before. I may not have all the details on how to go about it and everyday I seem to learn something new along the way but I think it is an effort worth exploring.

I wrote a letter to Ken Schram today and don’t know if I’ll hear back from him but if I never make an attempt to contact him, I definitly won’t. He has worked for KOMO news and has his own commentary online and on a local radio station I believe. I took the time to explain my story and attached a link to change.org as well as pointing him to InvisiblePeopletv and wearevisible. Maybe nothing will come of this, maybe something will.

I put in a few phone calls to the Pierce County Coalition to end Homelessness but haven’t heard back from them yet. Hopefully someone will get back to me within a few days. The next step from here is to check out King County’s coalitions and go from there.

While doing all of this I still have the same anxieties about getting by just like everybody else, maybe more so but I don’t like to dwell on what I can’t change today. Each of us has the capability to be the first at something in their hometowns but how often do they? It’s a simple matter to acknowledge a family with kids living out of their cars when you see them in parking lots. If I had the money, I would buy gift cards to local restraunts and go on a spree to pass them out to homeless folks especially in the winter when hot food will go a long way but if I couldn’t do that I would at least figure out how to keep them warm. Hand warmers are always a convenient and practical gift.

I don’t know where tomorrow will take me but when I get there, I hope it’s another step closer to something better.

, , , , , , , , , ,

What I want to do versus what I need to do

Posted by Carey Fuller in elderly | Helping hands | Homelessness | Kids | senior citizen - (0 Comments)

What I want to do versus what I need to do.

, , , , , , ,

What I want to do versus what I need to do

Posted by Carey Fuller in elderly | Helping hands | Homelessness | senior citizen | Social media - (12 Comments)

The past week has been a whirl of headaches, stresses and traumas yet it has also been a week of new discoveries, self exploration and a rare joy ride into the sweet side of the human soul. You see, I told myself that the only way out of hell was to get a degree in something that might resemble job security even if it were a mundane spirit crushing job; it had to be better than my current circumstances. So I began the process of enrolling in a 2 year program and although I struggled to keep up with classes while staying alive and looking for better opportunities, I knew I was dying inside. Isn’t this what a good parent does, make sacrifices for her children regardless of how it affects her health, her mind, her overall well-being?

While I chased after a piece of paper that would tell people I am worth something I felt…empty. Is this what I really am? Is this who I want to be? Insomnia and migraines became constant companions I could not say no to yet I allowed them to make themselves comfortable because the rationalization was to put up with it because having a degree would be worth it, wouldn’t it?

Little by little, something has been happening to me. I noticed it when I walked the streets of Seattle talking to desperate people in desperate situations. I noticed it when taking the time to befriend an 85-year old street musician. I felt it when looking for the van people and counting how many souls slept in vans, cars and motor homes. I saw it in the eyes of children living in parking lots who didn’t know where they would be sleeping that night. Sometimes it stung in the face of careless comments and willful ignorance yet somehow always managed to ignite me in ways previously unknown and I am still on simmer.

When everything converged into a tangled mess of conflicted priorities and too many ifs, everything locked up inside me until……my path crossed that of another whose gentle words gave me clarity again. “What is it you want to do and what is it you need to do?” Even before those words were given, I already knew. Going to school to get a degree; that was what I wanted to do. Giving homeless people a voice when no one wants to hear them is what I NEED to do. Hearing the fragile voice of an 85-year old man living in a garage and wanting to die because he suffers from loneliness and thought the world had forgotten him turn into surprise and wonder because people he didn’t know read what I wrote about him and sent him letters is what I NEED to hear. Watching the interactions among the homeless themselves helping and supporting other homeless people is what I NEED to see. Reading about how dehumanized one man felt because no one wanted to touch a homeless man is what I NEED to know. Connecting with other people going through the same feelings of frustration, anxieties, guilt and anger is what I NEED to feel. Wanting to help a hardly normal guy run around the world filming the truth about homelessness and those who struggle with it every day and knowing it may turn out to be a thankless job but the rewards thus far are measured in humanity and not in gold so I keep on doing what I can even though I have no idea in the long run where this will lead to is where I NEED to be.

And so I begin the process of enrolling in a different program that isn’t taught at any institution nor does it require filling out forms for financial aid so that when you “graduate” you are eligible to repay that loan immediately. The classes I have chosen to take are in patience, diligence, compassion, perseverance, acceptance and a willingness not to judge. Actively pursuing real change is more than a full-time career yet I am willing to do it without pay because the alternative is to fall into the status quo of nothingness and rhetoric without action.

I am still pursuing a living wage but in the meantime I have to wage a life worth pursuing.

, , , , , , , , ,

Hangin’ out at the Tacoma Dome

Posted by Carey Fuller in Helping hands | Homelessness | Kids | Social media - (0 Comments)

Today I rounded up the kids, drove to the nearest bus station/park and ride and went to Tacoma. Took us about 30 minutes to get there and the experience was amazing. So many people flocked to the Tacoma Dome’s Exhibition Hall to attend this year’s Project Homeless Connect. What is truly amazing about this event is that not one staff member is paid to be here. Doctors, dentists, vision care providers, mental health specialists, barbers, social service workers, every one a volunteer!

I brought my kids here to get them to see a dentist and for my eldest daughter it would’ve been a nice gift to have her eyes checked because she needs glasses but by the time we got there, they had run out of glasses and closed by 2pm. Tomorrow is her birthday and I’ve got nothing planned. So far, she hasn’t said a thing or complained but I know she’s thinking about it. How couldn’t she when her peers are having sweet 16 parties while she’s worrying about where she’ll end up in the next few months or next year? At least she got her teeth cleaned and sealed by the mobile dental units a free haircut offered by the volunteer hair stylists. At first, she was apprehensive about attending but when it was time to go she smiled at me and said she was glad she went. My cell phone went off and it was the manager of the Public Storage unit. I knew that sooner or later he would be calling with a “friendly” reminder. I let him know I should be coming down sometime this weekend or early next week.

My youngest of course, was amazed to see so many other kids and after taking her to see a dentist, she begged me to take her to the secure childcare center. I took advantage of the free service and wandered the floors talking with various volunteers, looking for members of the team that coordinated the event. I eventually met Ellie Ottey who has been helping coordinate this event for the last four years. She agreed to give me a casual interview and was very gracious in giving me her time but ha! You won’t see the results of our chat until it gets posted on change.org!

I took the opportunity to tell Ellie about wearevisible and InvisiblePeople.tv and about change.org as she had never heard of it. I told her about my situation and why I do what I do and she kept staring at me. I told her I may be homeless but I am not a victim nor will I play the part. Regardless of who has let me down, I am responsible for taking control of where I want my future to be. I may be homeless now, but I am studying for a bachelor’s degree in health services administration. Ellie’s eyebrows went up as she smiled. “You know, with all these doctors in here, I’m sure we can make a connection somehow!” The more I chatted with Ellie I discovered that for the last 20 years, she’s been working in finding housing for people like me! We exchanged information as I told her that I would like to know about anything that comes up in the future that I could write about. It occurred to me that if these volunteers could deliver help to the homeless, and homeless people helping other homeless people via social media, what would happen if the two should …oh I don’t know….come together? And what if, just by talking to people I wouldn’t normally talk to, I just happen to mention wearevisible and InvisiblePeople.tv to those who coordinate events such as Project Connect Homeless? Governmental systems lack the ability to deliver immediate help to those already in crisis. As Ellie so eloquently put it, the project coordinators operate as though they are managing a disaster. In my opinion, people living under bridges or in cars needed help yesterday, not in the obscure future wasting precious time on waiting lists and false hopes.

As I’ve often said before, it always seems that I am led to other people and today it happened again. While waiting for the #574 to Federal Way, I met two homeless men on their way to Seattle and a young man with two backpacks standing nearby trying to figure out which bus to take. He approached me and said he had come from Evergreen College in Olympia and was trying to get to Seattle. I told him he might as well follow us since the local buses have to stop at the Federal Way Transit Center. There are buses that will go directly to Seattle. Well when a bus did arrive, he followed us on and so did the two older homeless men behind us. The two men thought they had enough money between them for their fare but turns out the rate is $3.00 a person. I stood up and shoved dollar bills into the meter for them, then paid for my fares for one adult and two youths. We all sat at the front of the bus and as is my way, I started talking to them about where they were going and why. The two older men told me they had come from California and they too were at the Tacoma Dome for Project Homeless Connect. They kept saying thank you and that God would bless me for helping them get to Seattle. One of the men had the appearance of having been roughed up not too long ago and he casually told me that he had been beaten up and robbed of his money. He had been standing with a cardboard sign for hours near the bus station just trying to get a ride back to Seattle. The other man said he only had enough money to get to Tacoma and didn’t really know what he was going to do but he was also trying to pan handle to pay for a bus ride north. Now what’s interesting about all this is that earlier in the day while we were in Federal Way waiting for a bus to take us to Tacoma, a woman who spoke mostly Russian was walking up and down the station trading her bus tickets for cash. I gave her $4.00 and thought nothing of it since she was trading tickets for Metro buses which is different from Community Transit because they are two different counties. I figured I would just use these tickets on the weekend when I head to Seattle. I reached into one of the pockets of my backpack and fished out the bus tickets and handed them to the man who had been beaten and robbed. It wasn’t until the bus drove down the freeway that I realized that we had gotten on an express bus straight to Seattle, no stops in between! As I sat there smiling to myself, I leaned forward and told the young man that he got lucky, he got his wish and we are on a direct route to Seattle. He was trying to find his way to the Starbuck’s on the waterfront because someone was going to pick him up there. We walked with him downtown and I pointed him in the direction he needed to go. He thanked me and went on his way. On the light rail back to Federal Way, I smiled about the day’s events while watching the scenery blur past me through dark windows stained with rain drops. Even though the dull thudding of an impending headache was on its way, I still feel like my day was well spent. Tomorrow is a new beginning and all I can do is greet it.

, , , , , , ,

A Secret Affair……

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness | Just for fun | Uncategorized - (2 Comments)

A Secret Affair…….

, , , , ,

A Secret Affair……

Posted by Carey Fuller in Homelessness | Just for fun | Uncategorized - (6 Comments)

When I first saw him, I knew he belonged to another woman, my best friend in fact. Then it started. Whenever I went to her house to help her with dinner, he quietly watched us in the kitchen. At first he regarded me with his typical nonchalant flair but as he got to know me, his demeanor changed. I know it’s wrong but I couldn’t resist his soulful green eyes. I pretended I didn’t like his displays of affection even though I knew all the while I was falling in love with him.

With my fingertips I softly traced the features of his regal face nestled in my lap. How can something so wrong feel so good? How could I betray my best friend like this? Am I not guilty of stealing his affections from her? What kind of friend am I? When I spent nights at Caly’s house, silently he came to me when she was fast asleep. No…..no this is wrong, I would say. What if she catches us? He respected my wishes but gave a mournful look back at me as he left.

For weeks and weeks this had been going on and all the while I thought she didn’t know. Then one evening while paying her a visit, I realized she knew and surprisingly she wasn’t all that upset. “I know he’s in love with you, I have eyes you know.” Oh god, this is it, this is the moment I have dreaded for days on end! “You’re not upset?” I asked feeling a little taken aback by the fact that she wasn’t fuming. “No. See things between us haven’t really been the same. Hell, it wouldn’t matter to me if you let him live with you. I think you two really have chemistry together, more than we ever did.” I felt like crying because I should’ve come clean from the start. “I didn’t mean for this to happen!” I cried. Caly smiled at me, blue eyes twinkling over the rim of her glasses. “No, you didn’t, but it did and that’s that. Jasper has made his choice and there’s nothing I can do about that. Best thing to do is just move on from here.”

I know that I will never find such a forgiving friend such as Caly, not in a million years. And Jasper, well, he’s just Jasper.

, , , , , , , ,

Confessions……

Posted by Carey Fuller in elderly | Helping hands | Homelessness | senior citizen | Social media - (4 Comments)

Today I had to finally tell my youngest daughter’s teacher the truth about us. I directed her to change.org’s website to read about my situation. Before they go trying to refer to me resources that don’t exist, they need to see what the reality is for those who are homeless. This is a small town, Enumclaw is. There are no community service programs here. The next towns over are Bonney Lake, Auburn or Tacoma. Bonney Lake isn’t that much bigger than Enumclaw so if I have to leave here, I’d be heading to Auburn, Federal Way or Kent.

The teacher sounded stunned that homeless people were here, why should that surprise me? I hope she does read my story and every story I post on here. There is a new brand of poverty out here. One marked by individuals finding their way to the internet via social websites to stay connected, to make that human contact with others in the same situation so that they know they aren’t alone in hell.

I had my misgivings about coming out here because it’s so far out and because public transportation to and from here is extremely limited. I couldn’t leave Caly stranded and without help though, especially while going through surgeries. We do the best we can for now but I am gearing up for the winter. The mini-van needs a tune up and new tabs at the end of this month. The roof needs to be sealed as I found a big leak near the window on the driver’s side. My plan is to get us all new sleeping bags that can insulate to -0 degrees. Everything else I can figure out as I go. If it becomes too difficult here, I will leave.

Tomorrow should prove to be an interesting day since I don’t know what the impact will be once the school principal gets word or our situation. I appreciate their concern as it appears to be genuine but the reality is, I am doubtful there’s much they can do.

While everything is a day-to-day “adventure” for us, more people are sending me friend requests on Facebook or following me around on Twitter. I am always amazed that they WANT to read what I write and for that I am thankful. I will admit it feels a little odd to me because I don’t like being in the spotlight, never have but if this is the path I’m on, I must follow it. I’ve got to see what’s at the end of it.

Just as I was signing off of other websites, I got a call from Rab, the 85-year old street performer I wrote about. He told me how this was the hardest time in his life because of the loneliness he endures every day. Because of this, he feels tired of life and prays to God to end his. In that one sentence, that one painfully honest admission, everything I’ve been stressing about went away. That old familiar sting came to my eyes because I can’t stand to see another human being in pain, not this kind. This kind of pain could be avoided if people in his family took the time to visit him regularly. I asked him if he checked his mail box lately because some “surprises” were sent to him on Friday. He said he hadn’t checked his mail box since then but he would tomorrow. “Well, I got an idea then. Why don’t you talk to my youngest since she is fighting me in going to sleep?” Rab’s voice took on a different sound, it was …..delighted! I handed the phone to her and away she went! Asking him who he was, where he lived, how old he was, 85?! That’s old as Jesus! Yep, that’s what the kid said to him! Even my teenager took time to talk to him for a bit!

Rab doesn’t know that I’ve been out looking for pen pals for him so he can still feel connected to the rest of the world. I want each letter to be a surprise for him because he needs to know he is not a life forgotten simply because of his age and circumstances. He will not be around much longer and if I can make his remaining years more livable simply by offering to be a friend, well….even I can afford that.

, , , , , , , , ,