Ripples….

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

Ripples…..

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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….:)

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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