Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

A few things. I am now 1000 words behind. I could write 3 500-word posts tonight. I could write a 1500-word post, but since I am writing 500 words a day on my book every morning, I feel like that might be asking my little pea-brain for too much. I am going to try to write 750 words tonight and then 750 tomorrow morning (bit stuck on the book), and then 500 tomorrow night. That feels a bit ambitious to me, but here I go. 2020 was hard AF for all of us, and I definitely struggled, and it felt like music and writing were the only things that kept me sane. The good lord knows my youngest child drove me insane with her lackadaisical approach to distance learning and discussing her educational shortcomings with her teachers was a massive source of anxiety and frustration. I was so out of sorts in 2020, like all of us were, but December broke my heart. I went to Kelso to help my fabulous, darling KK out at her work. One day, I had a lady named Katherine call. Katherine wanted to know if there was an apartment available for her. There was not. So, I told her that in the most matter-of-fact, don't-call-me-I'll-call-you voice that I use when people call me at my own property. I do not let people call me to see where they are on our waitlist, I tell them to wait for me to call. Katherine did not take it well. It was December 21st, and she took a deep breath in my ear and her voice broke as she said, "Oh. Okay. We were hoping to have the kids out of the van for Christmas... Are you sure? I thought something was going to open up?" I was sure. I was also crying. Not terribly professional, but the office was closed to the public and Katherine did not hear any sound of the tears in my voice because I am one of the best actresses you will ever meet. "I guess I will call back next week?" she asked, somewhat tremulously. YES, PLEASE CALL BACK NEXT WEEK WHEN I AM NOT HERE!! When I out the phone in its cradle, I put my head on my arms and started crying. At work. Kids in the van at Christmas. Like, how is that a thing? Like a total fucking masochist, I found her file and checked out her sitch. Kids are 3 and 4. Just like my niece and nephew, 2 little humans that those of you that know me IRL know are my FAVORITES. I would do anything for those babies. Anything. The idea that those 2 tiny baby souls could have been born into a life where they spend Christmas in a van broke my heart. Like, BROKE it. I composed myself and went back to filing, nagging, fielding calls from disgruntled people. Then Kathryn called me. Not Katherine, Kathryn. Same name, different lady. Kathryn also wanted to know if she was going to get a roof over her head. I also had to tell her no. Kathryn did not mention children, thankfully. Because hearing about children that are hungry, cold, homeless and deprived just fucks with my head like you would not believe. Kathryn spared me that. Instead, she asked me if there was anywhere I knew of that gave out gas cards. She knew there was one church in town that did, but they were completely out and she had no idea where else to get one. I admitted that I was not tapped into resources in Cowlitz County, but I could totally hook her up in Clark County if she could drive there. "Yeah, we can't. We are saving gas to keep the car warm at night and so my husband can go look for work during the day. Driving down there would burn too much gas." I told Kathryn I didn't know of anywhere that had gas cards but assured her that if she came to CR before 5:00, there would be $30 under the doormat for her in an envelope. She started crying. I was already crying, so I just ended he call as quickly as I could and did the whole head-on-the-arms thing again. Then I put the cash in my purse into an envelope and stuck it under the door. Ummm.... Excuse the fuck out of me, but where do I even live? This is America?? Like, this is who the fuck we are right now? And do not EVEN throw some "bootstrap" bullshit at me. There are kids waking up on Christmas in a van. There are parents that worry about how to get enough gas to keep the car warm at night. This is some bullshit, ya'll. There is no excuse, no explanation, there is NOTHING that makes this ok. So, I cried all the way from Kelso to Battle Ground where I picked up my child and hugged my niece and nephew until they got mad. I took my offspring home, walked inside, watched her jump on the $XXX (not telling) gaming computer she got for her birthday, sat on my couch and started crying again. What good are tears, though? Tears don't help anyone. Tears didn't find those kids a home to wake up in on Christmas. Tears don't change policies or practices that create a system that disenfranchises people or allows people to fall through the cracks. Sadly, I got caught up in my own drama/trauma - more on that in another post - and I let the ball drop on my indignation and my vow to do something about this. Lately, though, it is all I have been thinking about and I am definitely picking that ball back up and starting some shit. Watch.