Say Hello, Remain Close to Me

Some of the most meaningful moments in life occur when you are least expecting it.

As I was leaving work yesterday evening, I was debating whether or not I should get some household shopping out of the way. I really didn’t feel like it, but decided I’d better get it out of the way before old man winter blew in later in the night.
I got off work a bit late, and two of the stores I went to first were closed. This pissed me off. But I trudged along and decided to try one place I knew of that was kind of out of the way, but I new was open and had everything I needed. So off I went.

As I walked up to the entrance of the store, there was a very aggressive homeless man yelling obscenities at everyone that walked by that wouldn’t give him money, myself included. Eff that. I’ll decide where I feel my money is best donated.
I bypass him and go inside.
Shopping commences, I get all the items on my list as well as a few Christmas decorations for the house that were on sale (like you care).
I leave, and during the half an hour I was in there, the temperature had dropped what must have been 10 degrees. It’s late, dark, cold and I have at least another 35 minute trek home ahead of me. I kneel down on the sidewalk to consolidate my bags and get my gloves out, when I hear a very slight feminine voice behind me,

“Excuse me, I really don’t mean to bother you, do you have any change to spare?”

I turn around, half expecting something intimidating, and see a very petite native woman looking at me.

“I’m sorry, really, I am. But if you could spare a dollar, a quarter, I would be very grateful.”

She looks down at her shoes.

I say sure, yes no problem, and give her what cash I had left over - I think it was like 9 or 10 dollars total.
She thanks me up and down, and apologizes over and over again, all the while avoiding my eyes, looking at the ground.

Something told me to stick around a sec and just chat with her.

Me: “It’s pretty cold out here tonight. I hope you can get a cup of coffee with some of that change - something to warm your insides.”

Her: “Yes it’s very cold. No one has offered to give me any change today; they just call me a bum and tell me to get a job. It’s not that easy - I have no where to live. It’s cold. I don’t want to be outside all the time anymore.”

Me: “I can’t imagine how hard it must be to be down on your luck and on the streets. I know it’s probably pretty hard, but don’t pay any mind to idiots like that, they are just ignorant and have never had to face the things you must have in life to end up here.”

She makes eye contact, and I immediately notice that she is a very pretty woman. Her eyes were a beautiful chocolate brown, and as soon as she looked in my eyes, I could see that she was a sensitive, warm, caring person - underneath all her sadness and pain.

Her: “I have a problem with drugs and alcohol. I used to have it all, a home, a job, children, but somewhere along the way it just took over…
I lost it all, my kids were taken away, I got smoking crack, and then I ended up on the street.
My little sister lives here, and she says I can go there, but I don’t want her or her kids to see me this way. I am ugly, dirty, and I smell like booze. I don’t want to bring in that vibe to her home.”

First of all, I was glad to hear her say that she had a problem - that means she’s aware and probably wants to change her life at some point.
Secondly, as sad as I was to hear her say that she was ugly and dirty and, in her mind, unwelcome at her sister's, it told me she had a sense of responsibility in terms of exposing others to her lifestyle.
A lot of people in her situation are far beyond that and could care less about how they affect others.

Me: “Well, I’m glad you have some place to go besides the shelters. She says you’re welcome there? You should really consider going. It’s cold out - you'll get sick.”

Her: “She wants me to go to detox for alcohol though, and I am not ready yet.”

Me: “I understand that. It will be hard, no doubt, but maybe you could look at it as a stepping stone - a starting point. A warm, safe place to be while you work on a plan to get your life back on track?”

Her: “It will be so hard.”

Me: “I can’t imagine how hard it would be. But look at it this way - THIS, how you’re living right now is hard, and always will be if you don’t try and make things better for yourself. Detox will be hard too - but only for a short period. And eventually you could start a new life - make things better. You deserve happiness just as much as anyone else, remember that. You are human.
Either road is hard, but which choice will be harder for a shorter length of time?”

Her: “That makes sense. But I am not ready to go, I’m scared.”

Me: “I know you are - it probably seems terrifying.
I’m not telling you to go. I know just as well as you that if you are not really ready, on your own terms, you won’t get through it. No one else can tell you when you are ready. But I do know that you will make it - when you decide to make a change - I can see it in your eyes. You haven’t given up hope - there’s a chance for you, I know it.”

She begins to cry.

She tells me she cries all the time. She tells me she doesn’t want to cry anymore. She says she is in so much pain. She tells me she bleeds when she cries. I ask her if she is hurt, a cut, an injury. She says no. Her heart bleeds when she cries.
A lump wells up in my throat, I try not to cry.

Me: “I know it’s hard to believe, but you ARE worthwhile, you ARE important, and you DESERVE better than this. There are people out there who care and want to help, please keep this in mind when you’re ready.
You're human and deserve the same shot in life as me or anyone else - life’s just dealt you a shitty hand, and that sucks, and it’s unfair, but it’s what you’ve been given. You HAVE the strength in you to turn things around, it’s just been buried for a while, that’s all. But it’s still in there. Remember that. It takes a lot of strength to live like this everyday, and it will take a lot of strength to get out of it, but I can see it in you - you can do it.”

Her: “You are an angel. You probably think I’m drunk, don’t know what I’m talking about, but I am a sister, a native, and I see things in people. You are an angel. My angel.”

Me: “I am no angel, just human, just like you.”

She cries.
She says she tired of crying all the time.

She tells me she almost died during the summer - she was involved in a pedestrian accident with a C-Train downtown. A man she was with lost his legs in the accident. Her arm was badly broken. She takes my hand and places it on her upper arm.
A mass. A growth? I don’t know what it is, but it startles me. I ask her what it is. She says that’s the best they could do to fix her arm. And it’s cold outside. And her arm hurts when it’s cold outside.
The lump in my throat comes back, I try not to cry.

I tell her to really consider going to her sisters place tonight, think about step 2 in the morning.
She says she’s too ugly to go there. She doesn’t want to be seen like this.
I know I can’t make her go, but I tell her to consider it strongly, there’s a winter storm coming in.

She says she will. She says thank you for your time, god bless you. I pick up my bags to leave.

She cries.
She hugs me and she cries. She cries and cries.
I must have stood there hugging her for a good 5 minutes before she let go. She hung on for dear life, and I could tell, no matter how much money I had have offered her, this one moment - this connection, this understanding, this human interaction, this human touch, was worth more than any amount of money in the world to her.

"I’m Jackie" she says.
"I’m Debbie", I say. "It’s nice to meet you."

Jackie: “I’m sorry if you have nightmares about me tonight, I know I’m scary.”

Me: “You are not scary - you are a beautiful human being that’s just had some hard luck. I most certainly won’t have nightmares about you…”

Jackie: “Thank you so much, have a good night - please pray for me - I want to make it”

Me: “I am not religious, but I will wish good things and strength for you - you WILL make it. This is temporary - you want out - you’ll get out when you’re ready and not a minute sooner.”

I hand her my gloves, and turn to head home.

Was it cold? Hell to the yes.
Did my hands effen freeze? Yessur.
But I didn’t feel it, and I didn’t care, because I knew I had a home to go to, warm food, a warm bed, a shower. Things I take for granted everyday.

What a surreal experience. That’s the main thing I remember about it - totally surreal.

Here I am, all pissy about having to go out of my way after work to go shopping for toilet paper and milk, and I end up getting my head and heart put in check by a woman who has lost everything and is reduced to living on the streets, literally feeling like garbage.

Things aren’t so bad over here guys, really.

I don’t think I’ll forget last night. I don’t think I’ll ever forget Jackie.

I hope wherever she is, she’s warm right now.