That Time I was Homeless (Part One)

In the early 90’s I caught pneumonia. I did not have health care so did not go to the hospital. I had called in sick for weeks because I could not breathe. My landlords evicted me for not paying my rent on time. I left them my furniture as payment for rent. I was officially homeless.

A friend I worked with helped me move my meager belongings into a storage unit. I was confused, embarrassed and did not know where to turn, so I did the only thing I knew to do. I took the car my mother had given me and drove the two hours home. The car blew up with about 30 minutes more driving to do and I just kept driving anyway. (Later found out I had melted all the wires in the car. I have no idea how it got me home!).

I arrive at my mothers doorstep. Sick. So very sick. She called the doctor to get me more antibiotics and I fell into bed. I really needed to rest, but after a few days I was feeling guilty for just “lying around”. At some point, my mom said she could not afford me anymore and gave me $20. My aunt gave me her old car (since I had killed my mom’s) and I was on the road, back “home” again. With a little glitch, I actually did not have a home.

When I got back, I went to the only place I knew. Work. We were closed that day but the Telemarketing Dept was open and I had a friend there. She told me about a homeless shelter and insisted I go. After filling out some paperwork and being medically assessed, I was accepted.

The first night was horrible. I sat in a rocking chair and cried. My family is a proud one and to even think of being in a place “like this” was demoralizing and embarrassing. The house parents asked if I was hungry, offered me a seat at the large table and I just shook my head. No thank you. What am I doing here? What happened? Where did I go wrong? Are these people going to shake me down in my sleep? I cannot believe some of the thoughts that invaded my mind. I fell quickly into a depression.

The next day, was much the same. I sat in a rocking chair, silent.

When you sign in to this shelter, you have to give up all medications, and I gave up a bunch! Antibiotics, expectorants, you name it. Each morning at breakfast, the house mother would give me my pills and a glass of water, watching over me as I took each one. At night, the same routine. I still could not eat with “those people” but did offer to help set the table and wash dishes. A good southern girl never forgets her manners. The days turned into a sort of routine and I found myself loosening up a bit, becoming a bit more engaging but just as judgmental.

One couple decided to “play it” homeless so they could get a free place to stay while they were at the beach. There were others that were just as quiet and disengaged as I was. There was one man there that caught his wife cheating on him and left her that very night. Hurt and angry he drove until he found shelter here at this house. There were others, but they came and left quickly, just passing through, off to look for something better.

I was still so sick, but insisted I had to go to work so I could keep my job. Each day I would go (by this time I was completely without my voice. Do you know how hard it is to sell portraits with NO voice?) and each night, at 9pm, I would return to the homeless shelter house. They always had supper warming on the stove for me and always sat with me as I ate. I was allocated my medications and asked about my day.

Eventually, I began to warm to these people and soon I dropped all notions of pride and being “better than”. I really got to know these people. We talked about our lives, what had happened, what went wrong, what our plans were…………..

This went on, day after day for a couple of months. I was told the max time to stay was three months, so working, even without a voice become paramount so I could save money to go somewhere more permanent. I was thinking about this one night as a few of us watched TV. We had a game we played. If we saw a favorite food or treat we would say, Ohhhhhhh I would love to have the money to get that or ohhhhhhh what I wouldn’t give for one of those! Then we would all laugh. We were eating popcorn and I was sitting next to the man who caught his wife cheating. A commercial for Hersheys Cookies and Cream Chocolate bars came on and being a chocoholic from wayyyyyyy back, I said ohhhhhhhhhhhh I could sooooooo eat one of those right now! We laughed again.

The next day, as I was working (or trying, still no voice), I took a break to run down to the sub station to get a cup of ice. It was the only thing that would soothe my throat and allow me to croak, uh, I mean sell portraits.

When I returned, the receptionist had a weird look on her face, like she had just gotten a whiff of stinky cheese and she held out a brown paper bag. “Some guy brought this for you. He looked homeless.”

I went to my office and opened the bag. In it, were three Hershey’s Cookies and Cream candy bars.

Kristi 2-9-2015