This video is Tom and my relationship in a nutshell. I'm obnoxious, insecure and hyper, sort of like a puppy. He is sensible and quick to end our hilarity out of embarrassment. Because he insisted on shutting down my attempt to share all my kindnesses (which was clearly going so well) I will give a brief overview. Day 26 included hosting our community group here because the planned hosts had a stomach bug. I sent a few notes of appreciation to various people who have supported me during different seasons of my life, and I also sent messages to people who are going through difficult times. I checked in, asked how I could pray, and tried to brighten their day a bit. But mostly, I intend to brighten your evening with this uncensored peek into our marriage.
Day 25: Ele's Place
Hi all you #AdamsActs warriors out there! I’m Karen and Lara has been kind enough to let me guest blog today so I can introduce you to Ele’s Place, a healing center for grieving children and teens. But first, let me introduce myself and my connection to Lara and her family. Lara’s big sister Kristin was my college roommate and has been my bestie for 25 years! In October of 1992 Kristin and I were a couple of relatively carefree college seniors living in a tiny apartment near campus and preparing to do our student teaching. We were equal parts enjoying our last months as college students and planning our futures. Then the World stopped. Kristin was home for the weekend and on the morning of November 1st she called me. “My brother has died.” I remember trying to make some sense of what she could possibly be talking about, but of course it made exactly zero sense to my 21-year-old college student self. I don’t remember much after that. Mostly I remember that she needed me to call the family she was planning to babysit for that night (which pretty much tells you everything you need to know about Kristin; at the worst moment of her life she was worried about others and the commitments she made to them). This, I’ve come to realize, became the first time I companioned a friend through her grief.
Fast forwarding 20 plus years, Kristin and I have supported and cheered each other through weddings, babies, jobs, cross country moves, surgeries and much more. Most recently, Kristin has cheered me on through my mid-life crisis. Thankfully not the kind where I go crazy and act like a child, more the kind where I search for my life purpose and a new career. In the end, I came to realize that I wanted to work with grieving children and I’m sure this life purpose was greatly influenced by Adam’s death and witnessing his family’s grief process, including Lara starting Adam’s Acts. After Kristin helped with some encouragement and prodding, I was led to Ele’s Place Grand Rapids where I started working about 2 months ago. At Ele’s Place we provide peer to peer support groups for children 3-18 who are grieving the death of a parent, sibling or other close family member or friend. We also provide grief support groups to local schools, and education about children’s grief to the community. Ele’s Place vision is for every grieving child in Michigan to have access to compassionate support. Currently there is an Ele’s Place in Lansing, Ann Arbor, Grand Rapids and Flint. As I have gotten to know the families at Ele’s Place I can’t help but wish that there had been an Ele’s Place for Adam’s family.
The more I get to know Ele’s Place the more I love them and their mission. Before I started working there I had no idea that Ele’s Place serves all families free of charge. No sliding scale, no income requirements, no billing insurance. We feel that grieving families should not have to worry about where the money will come from to get the support they need. Ele’s Place is 100% funded through donations, volunteers, and community support. I also love the philosophy about grief at Ele’s Place. We believe that grieving is a normal and healthy reaction to death. We do not provide therapy because families who are mourning do not need to be “fixed” they need to be companioned. They need a safe and comforting place to talk about their person who died and receive support from others who are also grieving.
If you feel connected to this mission, please consider doing an #AdamsAct to support Ele’s Place. Here are some ways to help:
* Volunteer – Our support groups are run by volunteers who are trained by our staff. We have the most amazing and dedicated volunteers, some who feel called to help because they experienced a death when they were a child
* Donate goods – We are always in need of office supplies (printer paper, red folders), paper goods (paper plates, napkins, paper towels, cups, bowls etc. for the potluck dinner we serve prior to groups) and art supplies (construction paper, crayons, markers, cardstock)
* Donate money – Every little bit helps us to provide support to local families! If you feel moved to donate remember to include a #AdamsAct so we know your donation is in honor of Adam!
You can bring/send donations to our Grand Rapids office at 2000 Michigan St. NE, Grand Rapids, MI 49503. If you are interested in volunteer opportunities feel free to email me at kketterer@elesplace.org and I will point you in the right direction. You can find more information about Ele’s Place and how to help grieving children and teens at www.elesplace.org.
A big thank you to Lara, Kristin, BethAnn and Sandi who long ago became my “other” family. Love you guys!
Day 23 & 24: Yes, Still.
So, I think it's pretty obvious that I am getting overwhelmed. All the usual signs are there. First, we are in the home stretch with #AdamsActs, second, I have pulled out the buy one, get one blogs more than I wanted to, and finally, there's been a lot of uncontrolled weeping in my house. (Mostly from Tom.)
Seriously though, I can feel the weight of October (and everything it holds for me) just settle deep into my bones around this time every year. And it unhinges me. And every year, I scold myself, "Still?"
Yes, still.
I still remember Joe walking into my house, basically still a kid himself, holding up my mom and my oldest sister, to tell Bethann and I that Adam was gone. Joe defintely got more than he bargained for when he decided to fall in love at first sight of my big sister Kristin. He didn't know that our family was about to change forever when they first started dating. On their comically awkward first date (in which Joe got his own arm stuck in the steering wheel while driving, and I'm pretty sure my sister also threw up at one point) he didn't know that our parents' divorce was only months away, and that Adam's death was waiting on deck. Or that the trial would begin shortly after, and a march on the courthouse to demand justice for Adam. He didn't know that he would be the rock of our family when he walked through that door to deliver the news that would change our lives, our family, our selves, forever.
Kristin and Joe on their wedding day, 7 months after Adam passed away.
Yes, still.
I still remember watching a video of Adam at the funeral home, trying desperately to memorize every manerism, the sound of his voice, and what his hands looked like. And as much as I fought it, those memories have faded over time, yet the loss of him, has not.
I still remember dressing up as Adam on that last Halloween. It has always been heartbreaking and beautiful to me that on the night my brother was living his last moments as a 17 year old boy on this earth, I was also pretending to be that boy, wrestling singlet and all. I was dressed as my super hero for Halloween, but it just so happened that my hero was my big brother.
I still remember praying that God would let me talk to him in a dream. And still, certain songs, certain smells, certain weather... can crack my heart wide open to reveal a wound that still feels so fresh at times.
Yet there are a lot of other times when my pain is mostly the result of my little empath heart breaking for my parents. There is no pain more acute in my estimation that that of losing a child. There is no reality so harsh, or loss so severe as knowing that your child is gone, and you must continue to live.
So, yes. Still.
It is all still there. So many years later, because that is how love works. Just because one life ends, does not mean that all the love ends to. And when you have a boy so great, and so much love, really... something must be done with it. And so, as hard as it gets to continue blogging day in and day out, as exhausted as I feel from a month of feeling exposed, as much weeping as there is... it is out of a complete overflow of love that #AdamsActs was born.
And until I come face to face with my heavenly father and my earthly hero, I consider it a privilege to pour myself out each day. As long as I can say, "yeah, still." I will keep attempting to use this oportunity to show love and kindness to others.
Day 23 and 24 included a variety of kindnesses. I spent a lot of time in grocery stores so, three times over the past two days, I bought a Snickers for the cashier. This is one of my favorites, because the opportunity presents itself so conveniently and so regularly! Plus, cashiers are watching other people buy delicious foods all day. Can you imagine how hungry you'd get after a while? And for someone to say "Hey, Victor, you look like you could use a Snickers on your next break," has to be so gratifying.
Victor was a 17 year old boy too, which just sweetened the whole experience for me. I told him about my brother, Adam, who is forever 17, and how he can pay it forward someday when he sees someone else who stands on their feet for an entire shift. He seemed genuinely touched. Another lady came around the check out to give me a hug, and the third lady gave me a look like "I don't need your filthy Snickers bar." But, she turned her light off as soon as I paid and took her break immediately. Turns out, girlfriend does need my filthy Snickers.
I also filled all the grocery carts at Aldi with quarters and I helped a friend who has been having some excruciating back issues with her grocery shopping, a little laundry, and dinner. And I bought her sweet angel girl some slippers which she pretended to hate until I left. Mostly though, it was a kindness to me because we mostly just ate subs and talked about all the crying we were doing lately.
And for my final act of kindness, I contributed to a gofundme for a college student who is double majoring in African/African American Studies and Political Science and is raising money to study abroad in Ghana. Sidnee is a bright student and activist who will be partnering with me tomorrow night for another discussion on the race relations in our country.
After all the fails, and all the weeping, I'm feeling like mama got her kindness groove back a little bit. And as much as the last week feels like the emotional equivalent of walking through quick sand, I can say another set of "yes, still's" are true.
In a time where racial tensions seem to continually intensify, yes, still, I will speak up and try to make a difference. In a culture that overlooks others in the busyness of life, yes, still, I think that our world can change one Snickers at a time. I lost my big brother, and yes, still I have faith. Yes, still, I trust my God. Yes, still, I believe that He brings good things out of bad, life out of death. And I am willing to splay my grief journey before thousands of people because, yes, still, I believe that Jesus is in the business of turning my pain, and yours, into a beautiful, candy-bar-filled story of redemption.
Day 21 & 22: Let's Leave Lisa Out of It.
After my highlight reel of fails the other day, trust me when I tell you that the irony of being interviewed for #AdamsActs is not lost on me! And while I feel unfit for such a responsibility, I had the privilege of challenging an entire gymnasium full of 4th, 5th and 6th graders to join #AdamsActs with all of us for the next ten days.
That is not me in the fire-engine red wig. My wig only comes out on really special occasions.
I got to stand in front of these developing minds and tell them about all the things that my big brother could do - soccer, wrestling, editing the school paper, making people laugh, etc. But, I also got to tell them that Adam wasn't special because of what he could do, but because of what he chose to BE. And what he chose to be was really, really kind. I shared with them one of my favorite acts of kindness that exemplify who Adam was when nobody was looking. Below is an excerpt from a message I received many years after his death, about a simple kindness Adam showed to one of his classmates.
When I was 15, I went to the freshman dance in the cafeteria in the Jr High. I was awkward and very shy. I spent most of the evening hiding in the bathroom and hoping it would just be over. I ended up going out to the dance floor. I didn't know Adam, but I recognized him. He was there all by himself. Amazing! A 14 year old boy at a dance by himself! ( I went with a group of girl friends). I asked if he wanted to dance. He said sure! Before we got a chance, my friend cut in. It was funny the first time, but she did it repeatedly all night long and I never did get to dance with this nice boy. Well, as I was walking down the hall after the dance, I met up with Adam. My friend was no where in sight. I mentioned that to him, just as a joke. He stopped right there and we danced! Just for a few moments. No music, no cafeteria, who cares who saw.
What a special, special brother you have! I don't know of any boy that age that would do such a sweet thing. I was always taught that there are angels on earth. I have repeated this story to people many times and there is no doubt in my mind that he was an angel.
At the age where these kids are still forming their world view, and their very identity, I am counting it as my Day 21 act of kindness that I attempted to convince hundreds of kids that being kind is cool. That slow dancing in the hallway to no music with the shy girl who felt left out is the stuff of legacies. That seeing the kid who feels invisible, is what separates everyone else from the heroes. As a kid, it is so easy to feel like you are standing alone on the wrong side of a great divide. Maybe it's having the wrong sneakers, or clothes from all the wrong stores, an outdated haircut, or a second-hand dress for the prom. Or maybe it's just having nowhere to sit (or nobody to dance with) in the junior high cafeteria. Whatever it is, these kids are still deciding which kind of kid they will be. Will they be brave enough, kind enough, to reach out across that divide (which is much smaller than it seems to the girl hiding in the bathroom at a school dance) or will they be like everyone else?
I was beyond excited to be invited to push these kids to grow in the area of kindness. But, I admit that I was a bit on the nervous side. Enter into evidence, Exhibit A: the photo I sent to my sister-in-law, Carlie, when she asked how I was feeling about the whole thing.
Despite the nerves however, I am so thankful to have this unique opportunity to partner with the students and faculty at Rogers Middle School. And 13 WHAM news. Even though they think my name is Lisa.
I am not even a little bit ashamed to admit that mid-speech I, Lisa, took a mass selfie with the entire middle school. The quality of the photos are terrible, as was the decision probably, but they still turned out really fun!
For Day 22, I was going to go see a friend about a pelvis, and that's really all I will say about that. However, there was an unexpected change in her schedule so pelvic plans have been moved to Monday. Which means I have just enough time to panic-scramble some sort of pathetic kindness in this evening.
But, I also thought I should give some updates as well! First of all, the donation bin for David's Refuge has been a HUGE success! As you can see below, we have received mountains of sweet and salty snacks which will be used to fill gift baskets to accompany the overnight getaways for parents and caregivers of children with severe special needs or life-threatening medical conditions. There is still time to donate some snacks to my front step. If you are interested, message me for my address. We will be collecting items until the 31st.
I have to admit that I have also been the recipient of many kindnesses. My friend Andrea sent these beautiful roses and a note of encouragement, my mother-in-law brought me these cheery daisies and my friend Lexi has provided an eternal supply of apples. (#foodsofaffirmation) An eternal supply is saying a lot for a household of seven! Trust me when I tell you that the grocery struggle is real. As always, it's better to give than to receive... but I gotta admit that recieving is a very close second. I am very blessed to be surrounded by people that Adam would have loved if he could know them and I consider it the great sadness of my life that they will never get to. Still, it encourages me to believe that God is using both Adam's memory, and all my favorite people, to raise up a new generation of kind kids.
Day 19 & 20: Random Abs of Kindness
Welp. Guys... if Tuesday's anti-climactic video wasn't an indicator that I am running out of steam, then Day 19 will confirm it, fo sho. True confession: I did virtually nothing of significance yesterday. So, here's what I am going to do. I am going to, in list form, write down everything I did yesterday that cooouuuuld be stretched into an act of kindness. And really, these are so bad, that they only seem like kindnesses if you are an actual criminal. But, this is about the time of the month (not menstrually, just this time in October) that I start to get sick, a little run down, and I morph into a kindness sloth.
So, I now present to you... dun da dun daaaa....
15 Things That Weren't Exactly Kindnesses, but Also Were Not Crimes!
1. I accidentally hired a racist to powerwash my house. Upon discovering that he was a racist, I did not cut his face. This took a lot of self-restraint. And I believe that not maiming someone when they probably deserve it, is an act of mercy, and therefore, kind.
2. Tom's act of kindness counts as mine because, well, two become one, baby. So, Tom/I called the racist powerwasher to tell him that being a racist is not only bad for business, but also for world peace. (Seriously, nothing is more attractive than a man with a zero tolerance policy on racist powerwashers.)
3. I didn't harm any of the children who ate like farm animals right after I mopped my dining room floor.
4. I did Facebook Live (always humiliating) specifically as a kindness to all of our out of town family members who would otherwise miss out on seeing my daughter, Annalee, take SECOND PLACE for the first time in cross country. My mother (who I affectionately refer to as Hurricane Sandi), Aunt Onnie, Aunt Kristin, Grandma Neen, Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Carlie all live far away from us, so I consider it a kindness to let them be involved in this if they'd like to be. I acknowledge that this might be a Random Act of Motherly Pride, but... shut up and be impressed with my adorable, hard working daughter!
5. At the cross country meet, I offered to help the coach in any way he needed. I ended up collecting place cards after the boys' race. It was really hard because I had to put stickers on 3x5 cards and... ya know, hold things. So, yeah. #majorsacrifice
6. I bought Annalee a bag of Popcorners? (They are her favorite, and... whatever. I admitted I would be stretching it.)
7. I didn't spontaneously fall alseep in my car, even thought I wanted to. Instead, I picked all the kids up at all the schools, and I drove to the race, then home to feed them, and then to youth group and then to the school open house. I could have just slept through all those responsibilities, but I didn't. And I wanted to. But I didn't.
8. I wrote out little words of affirmation for the staff that I planned to hide around the school. But I didn't do it because there were a thousand people around and no way I could not have done it in a sneaky fashion at all. I would have been hiding notes in their desk right in front of them. It felt more tresspassy than I had envisioned. So, now... I have some really nice notes about how valuable school employees are to the community, in my coat pocket.
9. Tom and I had such a busy day that we didn't get to eat dinner until 9:00 at night. At that point we were both famished and being really dramatic about it all. (Mostly Tom.) So, I swung by the grocery store on the way home and picked up some of his favorites because his love language is Foods of Affirmation. This is the lesser known cousin of Words of Affirmation, and has more of a "stop talking and feed me something bread-based" type of a feel.
10. I restuffed our little floor ottoman pouf thingys. But these things are super comfy and we have loved them so much that we destroyed them. So, I figured out a new purpose for all that fabric that I have sitting around for my business (of repurposing old fabric, ironically.) I took old fabric, repurposed it into accessories and now that I am retired from that, I have a zillion scraps of fabric that are virtually useless. So, actaully I re-repurposed it by stuffing it into my ottomans. They are good as new. And now they don't look like little deflated sacks on my floor. (I realize this is not a kindness. I'm just really excited to have solved this problem for free. And technically, I recycled so, you're welcome, environment.)
pathetic little sack vs. saving the environment & our ability to recline comfortably
11. Who are we kidding? I don't have 15 things!
12. I am getting low self-esteem because you guys have been so creative this year with your kindnesses.
13. Ummm
14.
15.
Okay! Wasn't that fun? Moving on to Day 20! I woke up this morning to what Tom rationally referred to as a "household clothing crisis" and then I threw up from a migraine. Now I am sort of just lying in bed with a growing sense of panic about everything I have to do today, and tomorrow, and for the rest of my life, all while my head and stomach gang up on me to teach me a lesson. Like a schoolyard bully.
I am going to try to rest for a bit, and then get myself together to bring London's teacher lunch. I requested her lunch order yesterday, and she seemed very delighted to order a salad. I cannot possibly imagine that this is her DREAM lunch. So, I might peer pressure her into going with something a little more, say, bread-based. But, either way... I will force myself to get that woman some lunch.
I have seen a lot of people post things like "I haven't been good at posting..." or "I'm behind on my #AdamsActs..." so I really hope that this potpurri of fails has made you feel better about falling off the wagon. My friend Marci has morphed into some sort of fitness guru over the past year and she shared an inspirational thought the other day. It was something like "Every wagon you fall off just means you get better abs later in life if you find a new wagon." (That's a pretty loose interpetation.) But the gist is that my kindness abs were a little weak yesterday, but once I stop vomiting, I will get back on the horse. Or is it wagon? I don't even know what I am talking about anymore. I blame the "mindgrain" as London calls it. The bottom line is that Marci looks great and there's always tomorrow for the rest of us.
Day 18: Fine Tom, We Can do a Video.
When the man gets his mind set on something, there's no changing it. #AdamsActs includes doing a video when your husband just won't stop begging.
Day 17: Being the One Who Survives, Being Unexpectable
I am not amazing. I really mean this, I'm not just being self-deprecating... although, I do love me some self-deprecation (I believe that it is almost always guaranteed hilarity and therapy rolled into one.) But that's not what I'm doing here. I really mean that I am not doing anything special here. The kind remarks and encouragement that so many of you have spoiled me with is seriously dumbfounding. I am overwhelmed with how generous you all have been in your assessment of me and my writing and of #AdamsActs.
I struggle though, because I am such a wicked, deplorable sinner that I want to be real clear that I am no better, no kinder, than anyone else out there. I am just blessed to have this little website, and therefore a platform to stumble through life a little more publicly than most.
In fact, starting #AdamsActs was not really altruistic at all. I started doing these random acts of kindness five years ago because I really couldn't cope with October. I had all these grief triggers and instead of thriving during the month of October, I simply survived.
And that, right there, is it. I survived.
It has taken me a long time (well, five years to be exact) to realize that this is why I struggle every October. Because I was the one that survived.
I don't just miss my brother in October. I miss him all the time. My holiday memories sadden me, because I either remember when he was there, or I remember when he wasn't. Both are so painful. And it isn't just special occasions. I miss him when I pass a Burger King. I miss him when I see a bag of sugar-free candy. I miss him when I feel silk. I miss him when I see the color maroon. I miss him when I smell a wrestling mat. I know that sounds gross, but sweat and wrestling mat is the smell of my childhood. And when I walk into a gym and smell that old familiar stink, I long to relive every match that boy wrestled. I dream of watching him climb yet another podium to receive a medal. I have a visceral longing inside of my soul that reminds me that somewhere deep down I am still that little sister, looking for her brothers hand to hold.
I don't just miss him in October. But, October is when I feel most keenly aware that I survived.
And he did not.
I did not know this at the time, but starting this kindness movement in Adam's memory was my way of attempting to retroactively earn my right to survive. After all, Adam was just so good. He wasn't perfect, I don't mean that. He, too, was a wicked and deplorable sinner... he told me so himself. But, he also told me that he was forgiven. And that the God that forgave him would do the same for me too. And so I accepted his God's invitation to forgive me. I met his Jesus. And I even loved him. But after Adam was ripped from my life so violently, so suddenly... I stopped feeling forgiven. And while I still loved Jesus, I stopped feeling loved by him, like I no longer felt that it was safe to trust him.
And so my love triangle with shame and guilt began. I did not learn about survivor's guilt until I was in college. I had always assumed that it was specifically a feeling for someone who had survived an experience that someone else did not. And that was not the case for me. I was not there the night my brother was shot. Of course I survived. So, survivor's guilt did not seem to apply. But, over the past five years, I have come to the realization that I have been operating in the belief that I must make a significant mark on this world in order to earn my place within it. The funny thing is that when people feel like we have to do or be something in order to feel loved or acceptable, we are way less likely to do or be that specific something. It's simply too exhausting.
So, we under-perform. We don't apply ourselves. We never really realize our potential. We get close to achieving, and then we self-sabotage because we don't really believe we deserve success. We live with that sense of disappointment in ourselves because, well, we believe we really are that disappointing.
Because it should have been him.
He should get the degree. He should have the happy relationship. He should be the one with the dream job and the beautiful family. He should get to live his dreams, not me. And so, I have hurt a lot of people throughout the course of my life. Because, it's hard to sabotage yourself, to deprive yourself, to hurt yourself... without also hurting the people who are closest to you.
And so, no. I am not amazing. I am not an angel. I am not a hero.
I am a survivor.
For Day 17, I picked up London, my 6 year old, from school and I took her out to lunch. She picked sushi and doritos, and Jay (age 3) picked chowder, because my kids are perfectly bizarre. This was a huge kindness to her for a couple of reasons. 1) We RARELY eat out. This family of seven is on a tight budget and paying for the luxury of dining out is an absolute rarity. 2) Only those of you from a large family knows what a treat it is to have (almost) one on one time with your mom when you are one of five kids! She was in heaven. And she was eating doritos with chopsticks. We also purchased a fancy cupcake for the lady who had the gross job of scrubbing down the cafe microwaves. She sanitized the junk out of those things. So, the children abused this cupcake in the check out line (purely out of excitement) and then surprised her with it. She seemed a little confused, then skeptical, then surprised and I think, ultimately, appreciative. That seems like a perfectly reasonable response when you give a stranger a crooked cupcake. When we were leaving the store, London said "I mean, that was so UNEXPECTABLE!"
Yes. It is certainly unexpectable. I am unexpectable. I love that word because it's a perfect 6 year old blend of unacceptable and unexpected. Losing Adam was both. Being the one that survived, was both. And although I have spent a lifetime feeling guilty about it, I realize now what a waste it is to hold back my potential, to sabotage opportunities, to deprive myself the gift of enjoying every good and perfect gift that I have been given by that same God who has been sweetly forgiving me and loving me all along the way. He has whispered love to me on the darkest days of mourning. He has whispered grace and peace to me during the times that I have been so afraid of more loss that I refused to pray, lest I be complicit in his unpredictable will being done. He has pursued me and spared me and he continues to give me a platform to speak and to write and to tell my story. Even though I am not amazing, even though I am a little unexpectable, he shows me kindness. And perhaps the greatest kindness of all, is that HE chooses to be amazing, through me.
And through you.
Here we have the devolution of the cupcake quality. Jay is slamming the rest of his chips, cupcake still in tact.
Jay is fake eating the cupcake while loudly making cookie monster/eating sound effects.
Cupcake dislodges from protective cupcake stand and remains on side upon delivery.
Day 16: Kindess Fail from Jet Blue Jess
For the record, I’m a professional writer. I write for a living and have had many great successes from it. Just kidding – like, wayyyyy kidding. Lara has a gift for, among other things, writing. It’s enviable and amazing and annoying and super. I have a gift for process improvement and auditing but there is no way to sexy that up so I’m not even trying. Before you continue reading this blog, my one ask beg is that you pretend the many grammatical errors are actually a cool new way of writing that no one has caught on to yet.
This story takes place on October 1st or as Lara’s people know it: Day 1 of Adams Acts. It’s a story that even when planned Adams Acts get disrupted, you can always see the kindness – even if it might not be your own.
My lovely parents, Rich and Carol, were in town visiting this past weekend. About lunchtime we had returned back to my 6th floor apartment from a scenic ride down the beach and back. Colin and I were discussing our gourmet lunch of ham and swiss sandwiches when my parents realized I was out of pop (soda for all you non-Michiganders). While giving them an earful of the negative effects of long term diet pop consumption, my dad (ignored me) clearly didn’t hear me and decided to walk across the street to Rite Aid to purchase some chemically sweetened goodness.
One thing you should know before we go any further is that my dad is okay. There were no broken bones or torn ligaments or painful head contusions. There was, however, enormous amount of childlike behavior from his super young looking 37 year old daughter.
About 15 minutes later my dad calls my mom. The conversation is short, less than 15 seconds, during which my mom says things like “Oh?” and “What?” and “Oh?” followed by “Yup, Bye”. Immediately upon hanging up she says “Your dad got hit by a car and is lying in the street near Rite Aid.” Quick check from my 6th floor window confirms dad is lying on the street having just been hit by a car near Rite Aid. We all run, literally sprint, out of the building and down the block. So many things racing thru my mind… How did someone hit my crosswalk law abiding father? Will there be blood? Didn’t I tell him diet pop is bad for him?
We arrive to this group of 7 lovely bystanders who have all stopped to help my dad and naturally he is smiling – loving the attention. My dad is clearly being well taken care of for just being hit by a motor vehicle and my reaction, finger pointing and all, is to yell “Which one of you hit my dad?!”. I had to be calmed down by a motherly woman who was not my mother “Now dear, don’t get excited. Stay calm”. Colin is standing behind me and I can tell he is now more mortified by his mom’s reaction than with his gramps lying in the street.
I will spare you the details/pain/ridiculousness of my argument with a 70 year old strungout man who claimed to have witnessed my dad walking with his head down so it was clearly his fault. Needless to say it didn’t end well and by not well I mean it ended with me yelling “Bye Felicia” in front of 5 policemen, 2 EMT’s and my son – who was wishing more and more he had a different mom. (Pretty sure I get bonus points for managing to embarrass my teenager twice in a matter of minutes).
Needless to say, the day was supposed to be spent enjoying my parents' company. I had a wedding in New Jersey that night. I was going to buy a million (read: 5) people coffee on my way to the wedding. Big kind things were supposed to be happening all around me!! But instead I yelled at the people who ran to help my dad and I scared off an angry little man with my 90’s gangster movie retorts.
I sat in the ER with my dad for nearly 6 hours with a 19 inch fuzzy-screen TV, so I watched the nurses and the doctors. All at work on a Saturday afternoon - smiling at patients, honestly inquiring about their pain, helping in any way they can – in a nutshell BEING KIND.
I was tasked with picking up the police report for my parents so they could go back to Florida (possibly to never return)… So my kindness to make up for this lackluster performance of my mature adultness was to drop off cookies today to the 100th precinct in Rockaway Beach, NY for responding first to help my dad. For the rest of the month, I will make a point to thank every nurse, doctor, EMT, firefighter and police officer I cross paths with. While people like me are being poopy heads you take the time to be kind every day.
Days 14 &15: Adoption Reunion and a JetBlue Note of Thanks
Greetings from NYC! I am going to count visiting Jay's birthparents as my primary #AdamsActs for Days 14 and 15, but we also had a few other things peppered in as well. We gave away some tokens and tickets to some kids at Chuck-E-Cheese (or the "House of the Maniac" as Jay calls it for some reason that is entirely a mystery to me.) we treated Jay's birthdad ("Pop") to breakfast and his birthmom (the lovely Miss N.) to dinner. I also refilled someone's metro card.
More than anything though, I think that this visit is ultimately a kindness for Jay. I don't know if there is a greater gift one could give to a child who was adopted, than a very clear sense of where they came from. He will know how he got those beautiful almond shaped eyes, that sort of disappear when he smiles. He will know where his beautiful brown skin came from, and he will know that his hands are an exact replica of his first father's. I think these things provide a sense of identity that is priceless. Above all, though, he will know that he is loved by all of his mommies and daddies.
Our ability to come to NYC as frequently as we have is due to the generosity of two people. My friend Melissa, who lets me and Jay completely take over her life and apartment whenever we come to town, and my friend Jess. Jess works for JetBlue airlines and has been unbelievably generous in allowing us to use her buddy passes for super affordable flights to and from the city.
We truly could not afford to visit Jay's birthfamily this frequently if it were not for Jessica. So, my final act of kindness for the day is that I sent an email to Jessica's supervisor bragging about their wonderfully fabulous employee. You see, Jess and I weren't even friends when she made this offer. She was following our adoption journey through this blog, and she saw a need. Then she met that need in a very tangible way. She has since become a very, very dear friend to me. So, JetBlue gets a rave review. And hopefully Jessica gets a huge raise. Or maybe at least a gold star?
You will have the privilege of getting to know Jess a little better tomorrow as my guest blogger for Day 16, in which she shares a humorous kindness fail. I am all too familiar with the fails and, in fact, had one today. When my sweet boy handed his tokens to a little girl, she gave him a glare that said "I don't need your filthy hand-me-down tokens" and she pushed his hand away. I stifled my desire to shove her into the skee ball game, and we moved on. We had more success with a different toddler who gladly accepted his filthy tokens.
Day 13: ATATT (All Tom All The Time) - A Guest Post
Hello. Um. Yeah...... I'm not so good at this. It's Tom.
ATATT TAKEOVER
Lara had a super-busy day today. Not only did she dominate her typical day of managing and caring for our 5 kids, all the while being gorgeous about it - but she also got a call from NPR. Yup. NPR. You know, like, NPR. NPR! As a huge fan of their programs like All Songs Considered and Tiny Desk, I fell in love with her all over again. Through a series of friends and neighbors someone from WXXI (Rochester's NPR affiliate) called Lara to tell her they were holding a sort of town hall on current racial issues. Invited to this exclusive club were many leaders from our community. This is all part of a movement to openly and honestly talk about these issues, so each of these folks who participated today can then reach out to their spheres of influence and hold similar meetings. It's an incredible initiative and I'm so proud of Lara for her part in it. Sidenote: ATTAT ShoutOut goes to our school district's superintendent, Jeffrey Krane, who was asked to participate in part because of his hard work with the urban-to-suburban school initiative.
Not only did all that happen today, but Lara also had to pack up and head out with Jay to NYC for a birthparent visit this weekend. She's on the road right now. I assured her that everyone would rather she not write today's blog post while driving. Living is better. So, as a consolation prize you get me tonight. But you also get some Lara. I've included one of her previous posts below explaining why we as a family are all in on open adoption.
Now, how about an act of kindness from me. I don't know if it's a surprise based on the NPR links I shared above, but my love language is mix tapes. For real. I don't know if this counts, but for my act of kindness to you all, I made a mix. I think it counts, right? I just put time, thought, and effort into it, and it's not for me. Yeah, it counts. I hope you like it.
Love you guys for loving Lara so much.
Yours,
ATATT
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We have an open adoption.
A lot of people think we are crazy. (We also think we are crazy, but for totally different reasons.) Actually, maintaining a relationship with our son's birthparents is one of the least crazy things we have ever done. When the alternative is withholding a relationship with people that created him, it seems insane to do anything else. Trust me, I am not being judgemental, I know that there are a million nightmare scenarios where a relationship must be withheld for the child's safety and well-being. But that's not what I am talking about.
I am talking about two people who absolutely adore their child. I am talking about a beautiful, bright, amazing young woman who created a life from scratch, and then birthed absolute perfection. She not only gave him the gift of life, she gave him the gift of a family. And for some reason that blows my mind every single day, she chose us to be that family.
I do not think of choosing open-adoption as some heroic act of mercy like some people think it is. Mercy is when we don't get punished for something, even though we deserve it . I think that is how a lot of people look at it, like birthparents lose their right to be involved if they choose to place their child for adoption. If I gave birth to a child that I did not feel prepared to parent at the exact moment of their birth, I cannot imagine the pain of receiving a life sentence of separation from my child because of it. I honestly don't feel like we are doing anything remarkable by facilitating a relationship with Jay and his first mommy and daddy... rather, I think we have the privilege of being part of something remarkable.
We fell in love with our son's birthmama, Miss N., the moment we first spoke with her on the phone. She and I have been texting and calling and facetiming and sending pictures and videos... almost daily ever since. Yes it is a huge commitment. Yes it is time-consuming. Yes it can sometimes be messy and enmeshed (see why I have a low tolerance for that with neighbors!?) No, it is not easy or convenient to travel to New York City every few months to visit them. Still, it is nothing remarkable on our part. What she did was remarkable. She entrusted us with the life of her only son ... and we are merely reciprocating the trust and respect she showed us, even though we did nothing to deserve it. That is called grace. To give a blessing that someone does not deserve.
Adoption is such a sweet picture of our belief system. We actually believe that we are adopted by God, because he essentially traded in His only son so that we (ie; heinous sinners) could be made His perfect sons and daughters. That is both grace and mercy. He showed us grace in pursuing us though we did nothing to deserve such love... and He showed us mercy by not separating His perfect self from us, even though I sin enough in my sleep to warrant permanent banishment from His perfect presence. I know how crazy this all sounds... which is why I admitted that texting my baby's birthmom is hardly the craziest thing I do. I actually believe this Jesus stuff, and I know that makes me wacky to a lot of people.
But, here's the cool part. Because I actually believe this stuff, I get to live with a peace and a reckless abandon that nothing else in this world can give. So, sharing my son with the only other people on this planet who adore him as much as we do, is not that hard in light of my own adoption through the grace and mercy and loving kindness of my God.
On the train going to see Jay and Miss N. in the hospital when he was first born.
Photo cred: Me, but that was easy thanks to his DNA. DNA cred: Pop and Miss N.
Day 12: The White Responsibility in Uprooting Racism
*There is some graphic language ahead, just to forewarn readers.*
When I posted this video of my youngest son, Jay, hearing with his hearing aids for the first time... I did not know that it would go viral and be at the center of a religious and racial throw down. One would think that there is hardly anything that is less scandalous than a baby getting hearing aids, but apparently... this gets people riled up! It started as a "thank God this baby can hear again" vs. "no, thank SCIENCE that this baby can hear again."
You can watch this adorable video here:
This absurd debate on our youtube video got pretty nasty. And when anything on the internet gets nasty, it can get racial real quick. And that is precisely what happened. I would be playing Candy Land with my kids when my phone would alert me that some racist so and so thinks that I am a "nigger lover."
Or I would be at dinner with a friend, and sure enough, buzz buzz.... so and so thinks that my kids is an "f***ing ugly retarded little monkey."
Yes. This is happening.
And when I tell my white friends this story, 99% of the time, their reaction is first a gasp, and then "You know you can disable those comments right?"
Yes, I do know that I can disable online comments from my video. But, that will not disable those types of comments from my boys' life, from their reality. I have the privilege (and it is a distinctly white privilege) to "disable" my awareness of racism. I have the luxury of pretending that everything is fine and equal and okay in our country. I can choose to ignore what's really going on. My black sons will not have that luxury.
My #AdamsActs for Day 12 was doing a free speaking event (with my sweet and insightful friend, Kayla) at Monroe Community College for an organization called Campus Ambassadors where I spoke about the role of white people in uprooting racism... ya know, a nice breezy topic. #dryheavingfordays We talked about the broader historical context that has created an environment where racial tensions continue to increase. We talked about systemic, institutionalized racism, covert and overt racism and racist mindsets (which we all have and need to uproot, by the way) and how these manifest themselves in our current racial climate, as well as how these things are internalized by people of color.
I count this as an act of kindness because I believe in social justice. I believe that we all need to care a little bit more. We all need to try a little bit harder. We all need to seek understanding and awareness and, frankly, we need to stop "disabling the comments." Just because we choose to, figuratively, block the comments does not mean the trolls aren't still out there. And they aren't just out there on the internet... sometimes they work in our children's schools, sometimes they are judges or lawyers or in law enforcement. Sometimes, they are politicians. Sometimes, they are your neighbors, or your friends or your family members. Sometimes, guys, they're us. We are all capable of wrong thinking and heinous prejudicial mindsets. So, I consider it a kindness to challenge students to think differently, to become passionate about social justice, to seek wisdom and understanding.
I don't care about the growing racial tension in our country simply because two of my five children happen to be black. I care about this because if I claim to be a follower of Christ, I had better darn well have my values in line with his. And Jesus, my friends, had a heart for the oppressed. As a Christ-follower it is my role, my responsibility, and my heritage to care for the poor, the weak, the outcasts, the imprisoned... and the oppressed. Jesus engaged with the sick, with women and with ethnic "outsiders" in a way that was considered radical for his time. He was a revolutionary. And I want to be a revolutionary. I don't want to stick to that old script of lies that says "we are all equal" and "if you work hard enough" and "we don't see color."
All of that is essentially garbage guys, because it's just not true. So, maybe some won't consider this a kindness, maybe some will think I am race baiting, or stirring up trouble. But I am doing these acts of kindness in memory of my big brother, and I am certain that this would have made him proud. As a high school student, he won a Martin Luther King, Jr. essay contest, and his message was not only unusual for a young, white, suburban kid of his age, but exceptionally insightful. Plus, I am really tired and I don't feel good and I honestly just want to go to bed. So, I am just asking that you hear my heart on this. Things aren't good out there people. And we can change it. We can stop ascribing socioeconomic problems to race. Violence, gangs, drugs... these things are not "black people" problems. These are poverty problems. Anyone in an impoverished environment is equally susceptible to these issues. These issues are a result of limited resources, poor education, and a lack of support. If they seem to affect black folks more than white, then please understand that it's because there is a 300 year history in this country of limited resources and worse education for people of color.
There are many wonderful resources out there to help us better comprehend the impact of systemic racism. There are many fantastic black churches you can attend to develop relationships, bridge gaps, and to deepen your understanding of black culture and to grow your empathy for the plight of an entire people group in our nation. Just try. Do something. Attempt to understand. And when you have an opportunity to "disable the comments," choose not to. Choose to walk alongside your black brothers and sisters, with your eyes and mind wide open and aware. Only then, collectively, can we begin to truly disable racism.
Day 11: Donating blood is the new speed dating
When my daughter London was 15 months old, we discovered that she had a rare form of bone marrow failure called Transient Erythroblastopenia of Childhood. Don't feel bad if you've never heard of it. If you asked my husband what London was diagnosed with, he would stare blankly at your face for an uncomfortable amount of time. And then whisper-mumble something unintelligible under his breath. Then walk away real fast before you could ask any follow up questions.
We are aware that we were extremely fortunate that her condition was transient and therefore short-lived, so he never really had to remember what it was that caused our little baby girl's body to spontaneously stop producing red blood cells. A series of life-saving blood transfusions bought her the time she needed for her body to kick back in with making red blood cells. I will never forget how different she looked and acted after she got her first round of transfusions. She had been so pale and sickly, that post-transfusion she honestly looked like she had a spray tan.
Before blood transfusions
After! (Enjoy these fancy special effects, because it took me the better part of an hour to figure out.)
We know so many children and adults who's lives have been saved, or prolonged, because of blood transfusions. So for Day 11, I donated blood for the first time at the American Red Cross! I have attempted to donate many times, but have been denied for various reasons - pregnancies, surgeries, tattoos, travel, not reaching the weight limit (unless I just had a baby, which brings us back to disqualifier #1). But, I've been working out, so I am officially weighing in as an adult and my uterus has been closed for business for many years now. No fresh tats, no surgeries, and no travel to questionable regions. So, today I was a first-time blood donor!
Here are a few things you should know about blood donation.
- The lady checking you in was probably born in the 1800's, so speak up when you spell your name.
- They give you gummies when you're done.
That's really all you need to know. Oh, and...
3. Blood donation saves lives.
If that doesn't do it for ya, then it's okay to do it just for the gummies.
I was a little nervous going in because they ask you so many questions about how scandalous your history is, that even the most wholesome donor ends up feeling a little like a promiscuous drug dealer. But, all the surveys were really the most tedious part. After that, they impale you with a needle that's about as big around as a string cheese. (This is a slight exaggeration for the sake of humor and a little bit of pity.) Then they bag up your blood and it's really not that bad honestly. But, spoiler alert, you face feels numb if you go in dehydrated.
Viewer discretion is advised, because I did take a picture of my blood bag.
And then I made the phlebotomist take a picture with me. I'm pretty sure she wanted to poke me with another needle, just for asking her to do a selfie with me.
For my final special effect, I gave us a spray tan too with this weird orange filter.
And then I wrote #AdamsActs on my bandaid. With my left hand. And a numb face. So, it looks like a toddler did it.
That says #AdamsActs (in toddler.)
Two quick updates for you before I sign off. First, the snack drive for David's Refuge is a success so far! Thank you to the people who made deliveries today!! And second, we did hear back from The Craigslist-Nutella-Breakup-Kid. He read the blog and said he actually thought it was really great what we were doing, and instead of accepting our Nutella donation to his cause, he requested that we donate that money to a homeless shelter. Sara is going to live in regret for leaving that one. He's smart, he's funny, he cares about homeless people, he hates video games and he loves chocolate!
If you are single and lookin' to mingle... and this guy matches your dream guy description, we may be able to make introductions. I hear a great first date is attending a blood drive.
It's like speed dating, but with gummies.
Day 10: Random Snacks of Kindness
About two years ago, my husband and I made the difficult decision to open up about a private struggle that had our family in a state of crisis. We opened ourselves up to a bit of scrutiny in order to get our family the help we needed, and to be a resource to other families who often struggle privately. We shared our story in this video:
Our lives changed significantly after we began actively seeking treatment for our son. It has been an all-consuming journey toward helping our family heal and is likely going to be a life-long process is many ways.
I can not adequately express the exhaustion and sense of discouragement that so many parents experience while parenting a child with special needs. And that is why Day 10 of #AdamsActs is so near and dear to my heart.
For the rest of October, I will be taking donations on behalf of David's Refuge which is an incredible organization with which I am looking forward to becoming more involved. Their mission is to provide a place of respite (free of charge) for parents and guardians of children with special needs or life threatening medical conditions. They seek to provide a weekend experience where they will be refreshed, restored, and renewed in their role as caregivers.
David’s Refuge has one primary objective, to allow parents and other caregivers much needed time to rest, reflect and recharge from the stress of full time care giving. They strive to have caregivers come away from this time of respite understanding three things: that they are not alone, what they do matters, and there is a God who loves them.
David's Refuge provides weekend getaways to parents who need their hope to be restored. Parents of children with special needs often walk a long, lonely and tumultuous road, and I know from personal experience how isolating it can be. Which is why I am so excited to invite you to bring candy to my house.
I swear, it's not just for me!
Part of the weekend away at a B&B for these couples, is that they are provided with a little basket of goodies. Parents can choose between a sweet basket, a savory one, or both. (I'd vote both because why do I gotta be choosing between snacks? I want all of it.) For the remainder of October, I will have a donation bin on my front porch to collect basket items for these weary care givers.
Here are some specific donation requests for their gift baskets:
- Small bags of chips or popcorn (snack size)
- Beef Jerky
- Crackers
- Trail mix
- Gummy Bears
- M&M's
- Chocolate Bars
- Wine
- Granola
- Gum
I got the donation party started with this lonely, pathetic chocolate bar. But, at least there is that little piece of pasta on my floor for the whole world to see. #housekeepingfail #always
So, here's how it's gonna go down... if you know where I live, drop things off any time. If you live in the Rochester, NY area (and are not a creepy pervert) contact me through Facebook message, or through the contact section of this bangin' new website. If you do not live in Rochester, but would like to contribute, you can also contact me for my mailing address to mail donations to me. (Remember though, pervs need not apply.) If all of that sounds like too much trouble, or you are a little bit of a creep so are not eligible for this particular challenge) you can donate directly to DavidsRefuge.org.
Caring for the people we love is really hard, even when they are healthy. But caring for a child that is medically fragile, or has a set of needs that is so unique that they require specialized care... this is a different kind of hard. It's so good. It's so right. But, it is also really, really hard. This little donation bin isn't going to make their lives any easier. I am aware of that. But, what I hope to do is help one organization who is trying to lighten the load for these families... even if it is just for a weekend. And a weekend of hope and respite makes life just a little bit sweeter.
Or more savory. Or both.
Days 8 & 9 - How to Help Haiti & the Homeless (Without Hurting)
I forgot to mention that sometimes on the weekends I will double up two days in one post because I am only one woman, people! I am not a machine! I'm kidding, I absolutely am a machine. Seriously though, I love the blogging, but there will be some days this month that adding the blog into a crazy day will be the thing that pushes me right over the edge of clinical insanity. As a kindness to my family, I will just give you a BOGO kindness event.
So, here were are... Buy Day 8, and get Day 9 for free.
For Days 8 and 9, we contributed above our usual weekly tithe because our incredible church had special plans for the offering this week. Northridge believes that the local church should serve the city they are in, and should also serve the world. Our church has made an incredible impact through generously giving to worthy causes both in and around Rochester, and globally. Our mission is to "help without hurting." Ten percent of the offering this week, along with an additional $10,000 from the mission fund, will go to help World Concern in their hurricane relief for the beautiful people of Haiti. This is one of the reasons we attend Northridge Church, it is filled with people who live out what they claim to believe, and as a church, we give BIG. Or rather, we give small, but collectively, we are able to do immeasurably more than any of us could individually. I cannot wait to see what the grand total is that we are able to give to help the survivors in Haiti to rebuild, yet again.
To help Haiti without hurting, you too can make a donation HERE.
For Day 9, we delivered hot pizzas, drinks and dessert to homeless people.
There seem to be an abundance of homeless people, when I do not have an enormous stack of pizzas to deliver. However, as luck would have it, the homeless just scatter when I happen to be armed with fresh pizza for the taking. But, we were relentless and we found many recipients who clearly needed, and appreciated, a hot meal and a hug.
Tensions run slightly higher than normal between Tom and I when we are looking for homeless people. You cannot really argue with Tom because he is seriously the nicest. But, something happens on the mission to feed the hungry. Tom gets paranoid that we will offend someone that isn't actually homeless. He has a strict rule that he will not stop for anyone who isn't sitting on cardboard, or isn't holding a cardboard sign. There MUST BE CARDBOARD. If cardboard isn't involved, then Tom ain't riskin' it.
"What about that guy?" I say. "Nope, no cardboard." Tom replies.
"How about that guy, pushing all his worldly possessions around in a grocery cart?" I inquire.
"Just because he has a lot of soda cans doesn't necessarily mean he's homeless," he explains, "cardboard is really the only way to know for sure."
"We have five pizzas left, honey, can we flex on the cardboard thing?" I plead.
"Okay, but... at least look for a lot of garbage bags."
We strike a deal. As long as I lead with a non-presumptuous "Hey, have you had lunch yet?" then I am permitted to approach anyone who looks homeless, and is holding a bag of garbage.
I would absolutely recommend that every one of you do this at least once in your life, and if it is possible, bring a child with you. Just grab any kid you can find, and change their perspective forever. (To see one of our pizza deliveries, click HERE.) My kids watched this young man run across the street and devour the pizza with a sense of urgency and obvious relief, practically hiding himself behind a tree along the highway. I was barely back in the car before he was digging in with a huge smile on his face. My six year old daughter, London, was so overcome with emotion as she watched this scene unfold, you could hear the revelation in her voice when she said, "It's just so beautiful and precious." When we finally let the kids eat their pizza, she said how grateful she was to have it.
I know people have differing opinions on what it looks like to help the homeless population without hurting. Handing out money can enable addictions, that is true. It's not always the case, but sure, that does happen. Some people are just hustling, and they are actually working the system and banking money. Yeah, that's also possible. But, as far as I can tell, nobody stayed homeless because someone handed them an oatmeal creme pie. So, I think that this is a safe way to help without hurting.
Here are a few things I have learned over the past few years about helping the homeless:
- Due to the lack of consistent dental hygiene, many people have sore or missing teeth. So, stick to softer foods that are easy to chew - bread, soft cereal bars, pudding, applesauce, even pizza. :) Avoid foods like apples. A lot of people cannot eat raw apples.
- Keep clean socks in your car. The health of your feet is of utmost importance when you spend your life walking from place to place. Limited access to showers or fresh socks can often lead to foot issues and pain.
- Chapstick, disposable toothbrushes, trial size deodorant, and other small personal hygiene essentials are very helpful. And don't forget to supply the ladies during that "extra special' time of the month. Can you imagine dealing with all that on the streets?
- Some helpful items we may not think about are large, sturdy ziplock bags, a waterproof tarp, hats and gloves, rain poncho, and those rubber shoe cover things that protect shoes from water.
- Touch them. Living on the fringe of society often means these people are overlooked. If you are invisible, you are probably not being affectionately cared for. So look into people's eyes, say good morning, ask how they feel, ask if there is anyone you can call for them. Give them a hug, touch their shoulder, hold their hand. Ask what their name is. Ask if they'd like to tell you how they ended up on the street. Ask if they need to go to the hospital. If you can, sit and eat a meal with them. Treat them like an equal, with value and a little dignity.
- Expect to see a lot of mental illness. Contrary to what most people believe, a large majority of homeless people are in that position because of mental health problems. Expect a lot of confusion. Just be compassionate, and let them swear a little because they think you want to steal their cat. (They don't have a cat.) Just tell them you love them and get then get the crap outta there.
- Remember that it could be you. I try to remember that with each lost soul I see, that I am not better. I am just as capable of losing my mind. I am just as capable of losing everyone I love in some freak tragedy. I am just as capable of making a terrible choice that leads me down a path of destruction. I am not better. You are not better. We all need Jesus. So don't judge, don't make assumptions, just help without hurting and be grateful for your pizza.
