Tuesday, April 28, 2009

now

It's sort of hard to sum up the past three or so weeks of our lives.  Mainly they've been a blur of pain and doctors and tests all culminating in a surgery and most of all a good prognosis.  Long story short, we are free to move about the country. Or outside of it. I say we do both. So next week we'll go back to the jungle, hopefully dodging a pig pandemic along the way.

I could dwell here on April's both good and bad but I've decided there is no point, life moves on and sometimes things happen that make us take stock and so we take it and move forward because there's no sense in looking back.

We went to the movies last night, a movie I've been dying to see for the longest time.  I knew I'd enjoy it even if it wasn't well done because it was a movie about my people, and watching the portrayal of mental illness and homelessness up on a big bright screen brought tears to my eyes several times. On the way home from the movie we talked a bit about our own Mr. Ayers, the ones who aren't famous but who managed to move us in unspeakable ways. I had an experience similar to the one in the movie years ago, a man who has now since passed on but is still in my heart all the same. I cried again a tiny bit because I miss the fight, the ups and the downs and the struggle to help folks find what should be easy, a place to sleep that will keep them safe.  It was time to move on and yet it will always be in my heart, I still miss the lessons and the banter and the reality and the street but I figure that's okay, it's my way of honoring what I was lucky enough to be a part of for such a long, long time.

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17 comments:

Magpie said...

I'm glad you're free to go home. Because the jungle's home now, right?

Madge said...

so glad everything turned out well and you are ready to move on -- and back to your life....

meno said...

They are famous to you.

Omaha Mama said...

What has happened to you here, in April, was probably one of the biggest fears about moving off to the jungle. And look at you now. You made it out the other side with nothing but a few stones in a jar. There's nothing left to fear. So now you live your lives and know that you'll make it through ANYTHING. Go on now with your bad selves.
Tell your hubs that your internet friends are so happy he's okay!!! Big smiles. :0)

alejna said...

I'm so glad that you can go back home. What a relief that J has gotten the medical attention he needed, and that there isn't the other scariness looming.

I do hope you'll continue to write about the work that you've done with the homeless. You really write so movingly, and your stories have stayed with me. I think there is great power in sharing them.

flutter said...

fly little bird, fly!

Anonymous said...

i bet the heat will feel less oppressive

and the insect bites less venomous

g

ps - swine flu has nothing on the US health care system, now thats something to really be scared of

hele said...

oh Jen. i am so glad you are both ok.

you have hope for a better world living inside of you and inspiring those who you come in contact with. i am sure opportunities will arise i the jungle which will help you carry on your work.

lots of love*

QT said...

I have no doubt that you will find something else to throw your indomitable spirit behind - but further south, much further...:)

Christine said...

my heart feels good knowing that your big, sweet heart is out there in the world. xoxo

maggie, dammit said...

Never a dull moment, there just really never is. Ahhhhh, adventures. ;)

bgirl said...

j, i adore you. every homeless person i see, engage with reminds me of you. you are everywhere, in so many hearts and minds.

life moves and so do you, with strength and courage.

hugs to you and J. cheering for you all with big smiles.

ConverseMomma said...

Congratualtions!

Janet said...

Get thee back to the jungle! Enjoy the emancipation from horrid what-if-ness.

hypoglycemiagirl said...

Glad to hear you can go back to the jungle. And belated happy birthday!

Kim said...

They miss you too, Jen, they miss you too.

The way they have left an imprint on your heart is the same way that you have left an imprint on theirs.

Kyla said...

I'm glad you can go back home. I'm glad it feels like home now, too.