A knock on the back door interrupted the putting away of stuff. I gimp on back there to see two wildly smiling younger people. "Hi!" says the woman one. "We're from yada yada and we're here to help." I nod. "We're going around offering assistance to everyone affected by Irene. Were you affected?" "Yes," I say, "The whole area was evacuated and homeless last fall." The smiles never fade. "Well, is there anything we can help with?" I look at them. Of course they mean well so I won't turn into Susie Sarcasm on them. We all know that the help I need, unpacking, sorting, putting things where they'll live, isn't their form of service. It's nobody's form of service. "No." I reply. "Can I give you some lit in case you find something we can help with?" "Sure." I say. And she hands me a doorknob hanger. They're a "support organization" from the State Dept. of Mental Health.
Are you serious? 4 1/2 months after the fact, now you wanna know how I'm doing? This is like the services offered after we were back here a month, in "applying for help and adjusting to changes". That phone call went to the Ashram that I left in September and they called Nancy's looking for me- in December? What the hell use is it so long after the fact, after we're already back in our homes and have fought the fight? Where were these do-gooders when we did need them? Any clue what rapid changes we went through in the thick of it and how maybe we could have used someone's shoulder to cry on while it was happening? Luckily I had my friends and Strider to lend shoulders. There were others who didn't have my luck. And guess what? Those unlucky aren't back here. They're away in treatment of one kind or another.
So yeah, that's all very nice and would've been useful- in September. As is, thanks for the doorknob hanger. I'll make a "Do Not Disturb" sign out of it so it doesn't go to complete waste.
I'll Fly Away
23 hours ago