Friday, January 7, 2011
Since I was a child, realizing this now, I have inherited my mother’s trait of saving lost souls. I attract those lost puppies, the stray cats and wounded wing birds of the world. I apparently have become the “Dear Abby” of my community.
Phone rings, a friend, then all I get to say is, “Hey, how are you?” This week must have been my turn to man to crisis line. No major problems just lost souls of the world needing an ear and creating a movement in my world. This was to be topped by the cause movement.
The “Cause Movement” is when something enters your life and the injustice is so strong it becomes a cause. For 2011 my cause will be the term “Assisted Living” as defined by Kentucky. Long story short, apparently anyone with apartments that have an elevator can call themselves an “Assisted Living” community in my fine state of Kentucky.
Trust me, I have researched all the legislative regulations and found there aren’t any. In the state of Kentucky it is easier to put an elderly defenseless person out on the street than a scum bag drug peddler. This instills a fear in these people; they will not complain and understand they are defenseless. Again, a movement, a cause and yes, it is concerning my grandmother but then everyone has a grandmother.
It is appalling to me that we pay for the care of an individual only to find compassion is not part of the contract. Speaking of compassion, leads me to my other movement of the week, Ted Williams.
Ted Williams is the gentleman with the golden voice that won the You Tube lottery. The homeless guy who now has so many offers he most definitely is overwhelmed. But he was not my movement, that was a question I asked myself while watching his interview. How many other Ted Williams are out there?
Homeless people are another passion to me; that lost puppy syndrome again. If you follow me you know I use to share my lunch with them, I paid attention to the “Shoe Shine Man,” and I feel compassion for them. That feeling of, “There but for the grace of god go I,” rings like a huge fog horn in my head.
With the state of the world today it just makes me wonder how many Ted Williams we do not yet know about. Is that Monet you passed on the freeway ramp? Was that Beethoven outside the grocery door? Is that Clara Barton living in that cardboard box?
To which I have to ask myself, “Can all they need be a You Tube video?” Nah, I know Mr. Williams won the lottery in that regard but it does make me wonder.
A week of movements and then one good movement. I do not want to jinx myself so I will hold that moment until the cards have played out. It is however the reason I have no short story. The good news just blew the words right out of my mind.
I want to leave you with a thought. The elderly are our link to the past, the Yoda’s, if you will of our world. The sages of times gone by and the voice of “Been there, done that, didn’t work.” Compassionately respect them.
Our homeless or down trodden are simply, but by the luck of the draw, you and I. We are not perfect creatures, mistakes we have all made. They are the link to the reverse image we see every morning in the mirror. My closing thought?
We are but as strong as our weakest link.