The Toughest Grandma

My Grandmother has been in the hospital for over two weeks, only two blocks from my house. I adore my Grandmother. She is the strongest toughest woman I know. My family did not tell me she was in the hospital for almost three days. Since I am unemployed I have been spending most days, all day long, with my Grandmother. What I can't understand is why I was the only one there most days. My Grandmother had twelve children. Excluding the one who passed away and the ones who live out of state, there should have been more people there. When my family is there the drama ensues. It is always about money, Grandma's money. My Grandfather managed to start a family just before he went off to WWII. When he returned he build a strong career as a carpenter and managed to feed and house all of his children. By the time my Grandfather passed away, through frugal savings he secured enough money for my Grandmother to have for the rest of her life and to have a little for each of his children.

My sweet Grandmother wants one thing, to live with family. She was married for 62 years and always had a house full of family. Now in her 85th year she is living alone in Assisted Living where she rarely wants to leave bed. When she does wake up long enough for visitors all she talks about is being done with life. She is so lonely. Living with family would make her happy. How is it that the one uncle who would take her in the family has a problem with? The rest of her children want her in a home. It breaks my heart. I rent a 3rd floor apartment and am unemployed. I would take my Grandmother in a heartbeat, for her, if I could. It breaks my heart to see everything as a dollar or cent thing. My Grandmother gave life to this family and the family cannot take care of her? Let's not forget, the money issue. They want to quibble over who is getting what of my Grandparents money. I told my Grandparents years ago (yes even 10 years ago they were fighting over my Grandparents money) that they should leave the money to research for Frontal Lobe Dementia or for Suicide Prevention. One to help prevent other families from feeling the pain as we did for the loss of our beloved Chris or to find more treatment possibilities for others as here is no real treatment for Charley right now. It would serve them all right. Of course, they are the children and parents will do all that they can for their children.

When I attempt to make a suggestion I am told that my voice does not count as I am only a niece and have no say. I am trying to be the voice for my Grandmother. I only hope that when I am old my son will remember how my Grandmothers family acted and treat me with a little more dignity.

Checklist for Overwhelming Depression and Despondency

Checklist for overwhelming depression and despondency:

---Lose job, check
 

---Send out hundreds of resumes and have only a hand full of interviews that lead nowhere, check
 

---Wait at Food Stamp office twice for hours on end with no food stamps yet given, check
 

---Go to Food Pantry to receive food, check
 

---Have bill collectors calling everyday, check
 

---Pay $190 for one prescription because of no health insurance, check
 

---Applying and still waiting for MediCaid, check
 

---Find out your father was rushed to the hospital because of a post on his daughters Facebook asking her friends to pray for him, check
 

---Finding out your Grandmother (from your mother's side) has been in the hospital for 3 days, in serious condition, just down the street from where you live, but none of your aunts or uncles bothered to tell you until the "black sheep" uncle found out last night, check
 

---Weeping uncontrollably every morning wondering just how deep this hole will get and what the point is of going on, check

When someone is feeling hopeless about their situation, the last thing they should ever feel is last in peoples lives. I have always felt like a consolation prize, second class citizen, growing up. The way I was raised affected me throughout my adult life. My mothers family and my own mother treated me as an afterthought. When I met my father at the age of 30 I knew I would never have the father/daughter relationship with him that I dreamed of my whole life. I love my Dad. But when you get comments from his daughters about how you look like a distant cousin (I look more like him than any of his daughters), being called illegitimate by his youngest, being ignored as a nothing from his younger 2, and finding out he was in the hospital because of a posting asking friends to pray for him on his older daughters facebook, it solidifies my place and value in his families lives. 

Now my Grandmother, who was like a mother to me, is in the hospital, only two blocks away, and no one called or told me. These aunts that told me they loved me. These relatives that cried buckets when Chris died have no compassion or love for me. I realize that one of my aunts is going through cancer treatment. She has more on her mind than anyone else. But the rest of my family knows about my situation and I have not received a single phone call to check in on me. My uncle Chester is the only one who calls to check in. He is in the same jobless situation I am in. He is the one who tells me when something happens in the family. I am at the lowest point in my life and friends and family are nowhere to be found.

My best friend called three weeks ago and wanted to take me out to tell me all about her trip and to give me a gift she was excited about. How do you explain to people that you don't want to be out? The only filmstrip on the projector in your brain is the ever expanding hole of hell that is your life? I can't sit and smile over a cup of coffee having small talk. How can I do that when I can't get through a meal without weeping? I feel like the homeless person that everyone passes and ignores. Who knows, maybe people are just waiting for this whole pesky poor thing ends in my life so I won't be so poor and pathetic. My days of plastic are over. I use to say every morning before I left for work that I was on. My days of being on are over. This has hurt me more than financially, it has hurt me spiritually. I always knew that the support system most people take for granted, I have never known. I do not know what a safety net is. If I loose this apartment and become homeless, there is no Mommy or Daddy's house to run to and live till I'm on my feet. I am all I have.

Food Pantries and Link Cards-Part 2

I am lucky that I had enough of regular baking supplies and food stuffs to combine with the fruits and vegetables I received from the Lakeview Food Pantry. The bananas were VERY ripe as are most of the perishables. I was able to make a killer Banana Loaf using less than half a cup of brown sugar and will make a really nice stir fry with the veggies. The accounts are now down to $20 in the checking. I will get my unemployment on Wednesday which will be $85 less than the cost of my rent. I talk about insanity. My head is ready to explode.

I thought about donations. I really hate asking anyone for anything but I bit the bullet. I created a donation account. Who knows, maybe, just maybe I can make rent this month. I won't even think about the lovely letter from my student loans I got in the mail today. Having a roof over my families head is more important. The link to donate is on the right side of this blog. Wish me luck.

Food Pantries and Link Cards

On a scale of 1 to 10 for days of humbling and defeat, today is a 100. This morning I had to get to the LINK office to have my interview for food stamps. After waiting in line for 2 hours I was told they would have to reschedule me. During my wait the woman standing next to me struck up a conversation. Come to find out she was also a displaced teacher. It was surreal to me to be standing in line for a hand out and discussing the impact of the film Schindler's List. Another woman stood beside us and began talking to us. She was an elderly lady who lived with her recently disabled son in Wrigleyville. She began explaining all of the different programs available out there. She mentioned a Food Pantry in Sheridan Park. I left the office in Wicker Park feeling horrible. I was ashamed and coming to full grips of what my situation truly is.

After stopping home I went to the Food Pantry. I waited there for two hours. While waiting I ran into the lady that suggested the pantry to me. It was like running into an acquaintance on the street while window shopping. As I sat there I became more and more despondent. How did my life end up this way? I am an educated woman who had a normal life doing a job she loved, teaching. Now I am the one collecting unemployment and food pantry items. At 41, this is not suppose to be my life. I weathered being a single mother of a new born going to school, working full time and never having a hand out. Now that I have the education, certification, and experience I should be at LEAST in the same place that I was when my son was born. I officially drained all that was once my savings to make my car payment today. I haven't paid my student loan for 2 months. I am sinking so fast I cannot take a breath. 

The kicker is, CPS announced today that they will be paying bonuses to teachers that have brought up their students test scores in as they call them "hard to staff" school. What is a hard to staff school? One that has 98% of the student body that is low income. That is exactly what I was doing for the past 4 years teaching. This past year I raised the percentile points of my class by 12, which is HUGE. 

Why oh why did I ever want to teach? I am in such horrible shape because of it. I had a job prior to teaching that I liked. I wanted to follow a dream which has become the biggest nightmare of my life.

It's funny, when you are on a downward spiral people scatter. I guess I understand. Who wants to be around a person who is in a constant state of depression and anxiousness? People have their own problems and lives to deal with. All I know is that I was once an educator who cared about her students and their lives. I was always the one who was there with packages of instant noodles for my high school kids when I knew they wouldn't have food at home. I can't tell how many times I have given my own lunch to my students when they were hungry. That's just what you do. Now it is me who is close to homelessness. I have never been as terrified as I am right now.

Too bad I can't have my own charity. That would be nice. I am always giving a dollar at the grocery store check out for some charity or another. It would sure be nice to have a charity of "Save the Displaced Teacher from Homelessness"  that Dominicks or Jewel collects for.

Is it just me?: TPS Reports

Is it just me?: TPS Reports: "When I was offered my first teaching position I had to leave behind a company, job, and most importantly an awesome boss in a technology com..."

Racial profiling?

My sister came to visit me yesterday. She was so excited to go down Devon Avenue and visit the Indian shops. She has been doing Mehndi's (the art of practice of painting elaborate patterns on the skin with henna.) for a few years now at street festivals and is actually quite good. She has been ordering Sari's online as it is often difficult to find a good selection (if any) in Richmond. In addition to that she wanted to find fresh henna for her craft.

Though shopping for me is like visiting the dentist I was happy to spend time with her. Diwali (A major Hindu religious festival, honoring Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth. Held over the New Year according to the Vikrama calendar, it is marked by feasting, gifts, and the lighting of lamps.) is coming up so the area was alive with activity. The first shop we went into set the tone for me for the rest of the shopping experience. What involves me shopping with others is a lot of standing around and waiting for the other person. I am not a window shopper. As I have no money to spend the appeal of "looking around" is not there. I am not a shopper. The moment we walked into the bustling Sari shop one of the ladies who worked there was on us like glue. She literally stood within five feet of us the entire time we were at the shop.


Though the store was filled with customers, we were the only non-Indian customers. The rest of the customers were left to shop, sans hovering. It was so irritating! The kept pushing her to try on the shirt she was holding in her hand while she wanted to look a little more first. It was hot, stuffy, and rude in the store. My sister didn't even notice as she was so happy to be experiencing such a plethora of new and accessible items for her business and personal use. 


I love the Indian culture and people. I have grown up in a very eclectic part of Chicago where I have had the pleasure of being within a few miles of the Indian stretch of Devon in West Ridge, the Korean market place in Albany Park, Vietnamese area of Uptown, the now former German area of Lincoln Square, the now former Greek area in Budlong Woods, the list goes on. Chicago is an amazing city where all cultures are represented and celebrated. One can be a world traveler without ever leaving the city. 

Prior to this experience, I have found the Indian people to be so warm and welcoming. After this experience, it has proven that there are jerks in every walk of life. When I return to the area for my black tooth powder (so much easier than making it yourself), incense, or incredibly fresh spices, I will make sure to avoid that shop. The funny thing is, I have been wanting to purchase a Sari for years. Not the fancy dress up Sari's, but the everyday Sari's. I find them to be so beautiful and flattering. They actually had some nice items at reasonable prices. My dollars will go where I am not followed around the store with someone literally breathing down my neck.  

Is it just me?: Quote of the day: 9/04/2010

Is it just me?: Quote of the day: 9/04/2010: "'Everybody wants to be a cat. Because a cats the only Cat who knows where it's at.'-The Aristcats"