the turn of a phrase

It's that time of year again and the last carousel ride for me. The winter season always makes me a bit hopeful, the programs we aren't able to run in warmer months open in full force in a few weeks. Knowing almost twice as many people will be safe and warm soon fills me with an excitement I can't quite explain except to say it's doing what we do best and we get to do it in full force. In preparation for the season we are holding a number of orientations, ones geared towards outlining expectations and explaining new services and sometimes even philosophies and I had the pleasure of facilitating a session tonight.

I'm waiting for everyone to file in when I see him, a man who slept at our program last year because he had no place else to go. Tonight he walked into the staff meeting and sat down right in front. I see him and I can't help it, I'm grinning wildly as I understand what this means and yet conscious of things I stay where I am. He catches my eye and smiles and nods and the session begins. It's a lively group, one that ends with us making a collective commitment to each other and the cause to do all we can this season to help every person who walks through our doors. The excitement and perhaps a bit of apprehension fills the room and its tinged with my knowing that this is the last time I'll get to do this and I won't even be here to see the season end.

Folks are filing out when he comes up to me and he leans down and gives me a hug. I squeeze his arm and I tell him I am so happy to see him and he confesses he's a little scared being on this side of things. I talk a bit about the power in that, how he knows things some of us will never know and how much better that will make him at this and how much more others will place their trust in him, this man who has risen from their streets. I see it click then, his eyes light up you think so he says I know so and we walk through the great room stepping over sleeping bodies and walk into the night. I guess I'll head home he says and he turns and walks away and I stand for a minute watching him go because those five words have never sounded quite so sweet.

As I get in my car I glance back at the glowing light, I see bodies waiting in line and the folks at the desk. The smokers are filing out and someone's pushing someone else's chair. I see it all in this moment and I realize again what I've always known, this place and this work is the marrow of my blood and yet I am leaving and I wonder once again if anything can ever really take its place.

morning has broken (pt. 4)

I headed back to the site yesterday morning and immediately spotted the mom, sitting up and looking okay. Apparently she was in some sort of distress related to the stressful conditions she's been living with but she and the baby were okay and they sent her back. I speculate as to whether she'd have been released had she had insurance but perhaps all was simply okay. Relieved, we turned to the task at hand, finding a better place for them to live. I had placed a few calls over the weekend and one of them called back a little while later, offering an interview and if they were accepted, a room. A room that others desperately needed too, this family was not the only one. The woman on the other end made a point of explaining that but also listened to their story, the difficult conditions, the baby, the little girl. There was less surprise than compassion, for them or for my pleading, I'd take either one if it helped.

She told me they needed to arrive in a couple hours, if they were late they'd miss their chance and they'd go to the next in line. I frantically called till I found them and knowing the bus was a tricky option for folks who didn't know their way around, negotiated a ride. The beauty of that was the folks who stepped up, a couple of old timers volunteered their battered cars to transport them, one with the family and one with their belongings, a jalopy caravan of strangers meandering across town.

I got a call just after the scheduled time, the woman who set the appointment called to let me know they arrived and then her boss, the one I'd appealed to earlier called me back to let me know they'd been accepted and brought into the warmth of their program with a spanish speaking counselor and an open day care slot for the little girl. Mom needs to rest awhile, we'll take care of her the woman said and I could tell this family moved her as they'd moved me, the simple essence of their need spoke volumes. I gave an inappropriate Whoohoo! Hell Yes Thank you! to a peer that I've mostly sat across from in community meetings, woeing the state of funding and yet for a moment we shared some of the juice, the reason we both are here. That little girl didn't need to be sleeping beside all your bums, she said, hey now, woman, I replied and she laughed and we hung up smiling.

So it's over for us but not for them, their journey is far from done but in our business small victories mean a lot. When I picked M up last night she wanted to go see her new friend but I told her she was gone. Why, she whined, I wanted to play with her again. I remind her this is good news, they are in a better place now and she says that's good mommy, that's good.

the one where jenny talia kicks a little ass

I finally got ahold of the head of the Hospital in question (post titled cut and run for those of you just joining). Not only did they admit it was their patient, but volunteered to launch an investigation into what happened. I asked for a meeting to review general discharge protocols; as well as allow for an opportunity to set a standard for what level of care we can offer, and what level of care YOU WILL NEVER EVER DISCHARGE TO US IN A CAB.

I threw in the media part, which brought much ass kissing all around. Nice to be on the other side, just for once.

Oh, and more importantly - the weather is heating up. And the coroner has reported no freeze related homeless deaths in the past seven days. Not a single one.

Rock on.