WoMan on the STReet… August ‘09

I was hanging around the drop-in awhile ago in between meals when something happened that came full circle today. One of the regulars I recognized from the liquor store up by my place (he panhandling,  police harassing) was the focus of everybody’s agitated attention and concern. Apparently, he smelled. It was causing a major commotion and nobody knew what to do.

Complicating matters was the fact that he seemed to others to be incoherent and chattered, animated and ‘in his own world’.  People were complaining; staff were scurrying and appeared perplexed. They offered him tokens to get to showers and clothing, but he could not come back to the drop-in anymore that day. He had to leave.

In between the negotiations, I tried to bribe him to come  home with me. I knew him to some degree and was taking risks that were not wise. He looked at me like I was crazy, and rightly so. He managed to tell me  he was in trouble though, not doing too well… his ‘meds’…

I didn’t see the final outcome. I had a meeting and had to leave the scene and him. I don’t know how it was resolved. I know I didn’t see him again.

I contemplated the fuss from every angle and just ended up feeling disturbed and unsettled.

Until today.
Today I had a meltdown.  In public. I was at a meeting with peers and staff from the drop-in. I began talking, in my turn as we went around the table- it reminded me of group therapy with facilitators- and a lump just made its way up my throat and out before I knew it. Something had come over me.

The reality that I was hungry and scared, cannot feed my pets, needed to worry about toilet tissue, was weary, tired and uninspired , became more real than the meeting and I  melted into the misery and got lost in the pain.

I kept thinking about the cats coming to their dish  and there being nothing for them.  I know they’ll survive and and so will I, but it somehow makes me feel poverty not to be able to meet my own needs and those of the ones I love. I remembered no food-no food, just no food for my children many years ago. A half a sausage each and a small glass of apple juice. That was lunch and the last of food. I remember as if I were still there; with children there is more of an incentive, even if you have to steal. And people are more generous and understanding towards children.

The meeting broke up after the upset and moved outside. I was already outside. Outside of everything; the laughter and chatter just passed me by…nobody offered any assistance in any way- emotional, financial or spiritual. Everybody just took a step back and went on, more hurriedly and seriously about their business, which was eerily, clearly  not the melt down they had just witnessed. It was as if I wasn’t there at all.

Discreetly and finally, a social worker who was co-facilitating the meeting with another agency employee took me aside and said he would get me some kitty litter, that there was some left over from the ‘good food market’ the previous week. But when we got to the cupboard alas it was bare.  He stood- as if far away but close enough to touch- offering nothing but a blank stare. No. We/I cannot help. I sunk deeper into my despair standing there before him feeling the flush of shame for all the need and desperation.

Few people really know what is required, what would truly help, in these (common) situations. But what is the work of a social worker, or an agency providing services to the the poor then?

I needed some humanity, a touch of some kind. I was bruised and battered and confused. I needed a smoke, is what I needed. Still trying to quit,  I really needed one then.

As I walked away from ground zero I began to feel better. Now the world started to include the sky, the light wind and the sun on my face. All of a sudden, the “smelly crazy” guy from the drop-in just appeared before me on the other side of the street.

Greeting him, as I always do- he was open- as he always is. I asked him for a smoke. He gave me two and was happy to do so.  He looked me in the eye and smiled at my smile. Made him feel good to help. For me, his presence was divine. It reassured me of the goodness and humanity that exists everywhere, especially in the most unexpected places, and how important  one gentle touch can be. Never underestimate small acts of kindness and the impact they can have on a person’s  moment, day, even life, I learned.

I walked on- renewed, comforted and cared for; this from one  “smelly/crazy” . Go figure.

Still, I wonder what his day and the people in it brought him..

c.smith

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