Day 117 of the Pink Collar Savvy & Chic on Purpose Project has me thinking about kindness. In the literal wake of Hurricane Harvey and the devastation it has wrought on the Houston, Texas area, I’m taken back to eleven years ago when I was made homeless by some very unkind acts. Most of you know I have a wasband. And what I’m about to share is no secret to many of you who know me personally. But to those who don’t, or with whom I’ve not shared it, I was made homeless when my abusive marriage came to an end. I won’t go into the details, but to say it was devastating can’t begin to describe what I experienced.
With only the clothes on my back, and I’m talking Sunday church clothes that consisted of a camisole, lightweight cardigan, flimsy skirt, flats, and undergarments – I was forced out of my home, in February, never to return. If you’ve read any of my posts, you know I’m a total nest featherer and so can probably imagine the extent to which I’d poured my heart and soul into the house we’d lived in for eight years. At thirty-six, everything I’d ever cherished, collected, earned, made, purchased, been given, had handed down, or inherited was in that house.
As much as the loss of the material possessions was incomprehensible then – imagine having NOTHING at all to function or even survive, like clothes, food, toiletries, medicine, etc. And that was just the first few days. Later, even after you’re in a shelter or if you’re blessed, a home – someone else’s or your own – it’s dishes, kitchen utensils, office supplies, small and large appliances, tools. You name it, you need it. I’ve come such a long way from then, but I still feel it, even now. Every once in a while I’ll think of something I once had and realize it was a casualty of what I call “the dastardly deed”. In fact, I just remembered a wall pocket I loved and lost today.
Still, those things mean NOTHING compared to the memories and recollections they evoked. My Aunt Bertie (Birdy to me) and Daddy were the most important people in my WORLD. They died when I was 20 and 30 respectively. I don’t have a single picture of either of them. That’s a hole in my heart that won’t get filled until I see them again in heaven.
The dastardly deed also caused me not to know where my children were for nearly six weeks. Talking about all of the other ways I didn’t have what I needed for them when we were reunited doesn’t bear thinking about or I’ll start crying and won’t be able to write. To this day, when they children need family photos for projects, I can’t produce any. The other stuff is physical, which is brutal. But never can the toll taken by the emotional turmoil be minimized.
All of that to say, to an extent, I get what they’re going through in Houston. My heart is tuned into their heartache. It was only the grace of God and the kindness of a few that got me through my ordeal.
As a Pink Collar Savvy & Chic Chick who still feels a little trepidation sharing my story in such a public way, I was compelled to do it anyway. I don’t have a huge following or large social media platform, but I do have this tiny spot in the blogosphere and want to use it to do good. To be kind. If you’re like me, you may feel overwhelmed and inadequate to make a difference for those in Houston. The bad news is, the needs are so great that any contributions we make will only help a little. The good news is, we all have the power to pray for the people impacted by Hurricane Harvey. That will help more than we’ll ever know this side of heaven. As far as I know, it’s the best way for us to be kind.
Be savvy, chic & kind,
~Pink Collar Coach