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I grew up here and never thought I would be back once I finally got away.
But here I am, and good lord, how it has changed.
You know, I was doing all right. I graduated high school, went to college, graduated, got a decent job at an engineering company down south. Met a wonderful woman, at least she seemed so at the time.
We bought a house and I started to settle down. Then came the recession. Turned out that taking a second mortgage and racking up the credit cards was not the way to go. I lost my job when the company downsized, then my house and then the “wonderful” woman. I was and am so depressed. I tried to make the best of it, but once I had worn out my welcome couch surfing with the few friends I had left, I realized I needed to come back home to my mom. Bloods thicker than water after all.
So here I am. In my fifties, living in my mom’s basement. Hoping she is telling her friends I am there because she needs me and likes to have my company. I feel useless and very dispensable.
My mom’s great, also very practical. She insists I need to go to get myself sorted out. Insists that I go to that agency in town, Faith In Action.
I call, I have nothing to lose, and it will make my mom happy. I set up an appointment to meet with someone who will help me with an application for Medicaid and food assistance.
Arriving there a few days later, I am filled with dread. I do not want to share my life’s failings with some total stranger. I do not want to be the subject of their pity or silent scorn. I am uptight and terse. The person helping me puts me at ease. There is no sense of judgement, just efficient asking of questions, with the occasional bit of humor. Gradually I start to relax. I actually laughed at one point, which is not nothing for me these days.
They suggested I get a food, so I can check out the pantry and maybe feel more comfortable coming in again. I was pretty taken aback by the place. It is what is known as a free choice pantry. I got to walk around with my “personal shopper” and select the items I would actually use. I had fully expected to be handed a box of starches and USDA mystery foods, but this was (almost) like a regular store.
Honestly, the whole experience buoyed me. Everything had seemed so helpless, and I felt so adrift and forgotten. I am back in the workforce again and saving to move out of that basement. Faith In Action was there at a time in my life when I needed help. Ready with resources and grace, right there for me and anyone else, giving all they could to make it as good as they could, for me at that moment.
