Getting Back to Square One

I haven't posted in a while.  Seems as though this had become a trend more than I would like.  There is so much I want to say, at the same time that I feel that I have perhaps shared too much.  My personal struggles of the past year have been just that -- personal.  My experiences with homelessness and living in less than desirable circumstances has been an eye-opening and humbling experience.  It has changed my perspective in ways I cannot begin to fathom.

What I do know is that I am more appreciative of having a job than I ever thought possible.  I face each day with the idea that I am on an audition.  If I do well, they will ask me to come back tomorrow.  They have been for the past six months, and just a week ago, I graduated from a temp to an official employee.  I could barely contain my excitement when they finally offered me a chance to join the team! I took my kids out and we celebrated with dinner at a restaurant where we didn't order off of the menu board behind the counter.  I am especially grateful to one influential person at work who truly pled my cause to the right people and told them that they would be foolish to let me get away.  I spent so much time searching for a job, and I'm scared to say it, but I think I found a home. 

Having a full time job has meant that I have been able to pay the rent and utilities in our apartment.  I'm extremely proud of this; I was scared to death when I signed my lease in October.  I have not been late with the rent once.  Failure is not an option.  I am not going back as long as I can help it.  And yet I know that sometimes things are not in my control, and I will face whatever comes next, knowing that I have already lived through more than I ever thought I wanted to survive.

I knew that all of this upheaval had an effect on my children.  I kept telling them that being together was the most important thing, and in many ways it was and is the single most thread to cling to in the midst of adversity.  After being in our apartment for a couple of months, we were riding in the car on the way home from school one day.  Out of the blue, one of my kiddos said, "Momma, when we're done living here (in our apartment), are we going to go back and live in churches?"  I cannot even describe the gut-wrenching knot that instantly formed in my heart.  I choked back tears and said, "I hope not Sweetheart.  Momma is going to do everything she can to keep that from happening again." 

This last part is what's hardest for me to swallow --my nine year old wrote this essay for President's Day:

 

 



I think that says it all -- and then some.  Whatever effect all of this has had on me, it has also had on my children.  We have visited the food bank, and received winter coats from organizations who have helped us at a time when we did not have the means to help ourselves.  My children have seen how much just having a car makes a difference in the quality of life that a person can have.  They know the struggle of watching their mother look for a job day after day.  They did not ask for this; I wanted to shelter them from the storm, not put them right in the middle of one.

As our lives settle down into a routine of sorts, and we travel further from the wreckage that our lives were for a time, I don't ever want to forget.  I don't think we can -- and if we do, shame on us.  Hopefully the good that will come from this will far outweigh any negatives.  Only time will tell.  For now, our time in purgatory is over, and I am closing this blog on a higher note.  Thank you for joining me.

Selina