It's been a long and difficult year to say the least. Since October of last year, my daughter, service dogs and I have been homeless. We’ve depended upon the kindness of others to provide temporary shelter; and are grateful. We were used to a moderate lifestyle, by no means rich; but never having to really worry about making our monthly bills.
My Mom and I supported one another. She was sick too, and I moved in to help her out, and share expenses. Last October, my Mom got sick and was placed in a nursing home, leaving her estate to an estranged family member. After a long and nasty court battle, the alcoholic family member who had power of attorney attacked us one night, and we were forced to flee our home.
For a while I was numb. Post Traumatic Stress froze my emotions in a desperate attempt at self-preservation. I tried to remain strong for my daughter, waiting until she was asleep to cry the tears of fear, loss, and panic that gripped my heart. I prayed. A lot. I was disheartened that I didn't get any response, and felt that God had abandoned me as well.
I prayed that I would find the true spirit of the old me once again...the one who had already overcome adversity and triumphed over a horrible accident that had left me disabled, and subsequently very ill. The old me once smiled through the hard times, knowing that my perseverance and faith would provide me with hope and eventually, opportunity. All that had worked so well for me in the past...but now, I didn't feel that same presence, and I found it impossible to smile...found it hard to feel much of anything, actually. I was emotionally barren.
I felt as though my daughter would be better off without me, that I was holding her back from having a secure future. If she were placed with a real family, then she would have a chance at a good life...one with a roof over her head. I was the one who was disabled and unable to provide adequately for her; I was excess baggage. She had her whole future ahead, and I feared that having me in it ensured her a difficult and dismal one. I prayed for answers. I prayed for hope. I prayed, but I didn't hear an answer.
I felt as though I failed my little girl in so many ways. It’s been hard and sad to raise a child without a real home. She misses having friends, a place to play, a room of her own with pretty things, and the security of knowing what tomorrow will bring. The guilt was wearing me down, and preventing me from moving forward; literally and in faith.
Though she clearly remembers the horrors that no child should ever have been witness to, she forgives as we are taught early on in Sunday school; divinely. She even forgives our attacker who hurt us so badly.
She never complains, although she has every right to. She went from having a beautifully decorated bedroom of her own, to having only what the police could load into our van one cold, scary night. Her favorite toys and a few other special things that we could grab, were all that were saved; the rest all left behind...along with the innocence and security that has been cruelly taken away from her.
Commercials she sees on TV with toys and vacations to Disney World, things that she knows she can't have, taunt her at every turn; yet she is the first to offer up one of her few remaining and cherished toys to another child who is sad or hurt. At bedtime, she offers up prayers to others, never asking for anything for herself, because she feels as though she has all she needs.
She doesn't complain when I'm sick and can't play with her, or has to settle for peanut butter and jelly for a few days in a row (even though she doesn't care for peanut butter), or that I can't afford to give her the extra things I know deep inside she would love to have...only issues an "I love you Mommy...you're the BEST Mommy!" whenever possible, seemingly oblivious to my disabilities and my shortcomings.
I dug through the change at the bottom of my purse and bought her a lollipop at the store today. I really couldn't afford it, it's the end of the month and I wouldn't have any more money coming until the first of the month, almost a week away, when my scant disability check arrives... but she'd been such a good girl, and I really thought she deserved a special treat. I worried that my last few cents should've been better spent...
When I reached into my purse and counted out enough for the pop she'd had her eye on, you would have thought I gave her the key to the magic kingdom! "Thank you Mommy! You're the BEST Mommy!” She shrieked with sheer joy, thankfulness gushing from her lips and unabashed love shining in her eyes as she hugged me with every ounce of strength her tiny body could muster.
All at once, I knew that I was the family that she needed. I knew that I wasn't baggage holding her back; I was the glue that was needed to keep us together. I knew that my little girl needed me and loved me despite my shortcomings, and despite our situation.
I knew that my prayers were heard and answered and am in awe at this child of mine...because while I spent my time feeling guilty and focusing on what we'd lost, my daughter was focusing on what remained that was more important than anything else; through it all, we had each other.
Though she's only four, she has the ability to be able to look past what she's lost to find true joy and satisfaction of having only the very basic necessities; and being truly grateful for them. How many of us adults can claim that?
At four years of age, this child is faithfully living in a way that humbles and amazes me; she truly has the key to fulfilled life. I've learned a lot from her; I hope you have, too.
~Proud to be the one Sarah calls, "Mommy"
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The Official Canine and Abled Inc. Site
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Some times it is easier to live for others than live for yourself. At least for awhile, until you find your own reason to live again.
I pray that you have already found a home and are safe..
