Thursday morning
I did go to the clinic on Tuesday but the doctor wasn't there. Only nursing staff. They took my blood pressure and it is elevated. They made an appointment for me to come back on February 14 to see the doctor. I don't know what else will be done then. My prescription is out so I'm sure I'll get a new scrip then and probably the normal weigh-in and bp check. I'm also going to talk to the doctor about my hip/leg pain and about my generalized morning pain, pain on standing more than 20 minutes or so, and things like that.
Wednesday I went to a local agency that helps with energy assistance. I went in the morning but didn't have a needed piece of paperwork, so I went across town to get that. The energy assistance place said to come back at 1 with that and with a form I needed to fill out for them. I stopped where Elizabeth works and she bought my lunch for me.
I talked to my grown niece on the phone and she met me at the deli with an application for a job. It's cleaning offices. I filled that out and she took it back with her to turn in. She and I can work as a team doing the cleaning. It's not a huge income, but it's a little and I believe it's something I can do. We will probably work in the evenings. That way, it leaves my days open for regular daytime things.
I went back to the energy assistance place to be met by a line of 11 other people there for the same reason. It was after 3 PM before I was seen by anyone, and the chairs they have caused havoc with my back while I was there, but I was approved for a partial bill-pay on the electric. It's about half what's due and will really help. I had hoped that under the current circumstances I'd qualify for the full amount. I don't know what it takes for that, but apparently I'm too wealthy for it.
You know, most days I'm in fairly good spirits. I know my God loves me and has a plan.
But other days, my spirits are low. I feel like - I'm 54 years old, have been a fulltime wife and mother, have taken care of our needs, helped in church, been a good steward with our resources, raised good children, and tried to stay out of the "system" all I can, but now I'm being thrown under the bus. That nothing I've ever done has amounted to a hill of beans. That I have no value as a human being anymore. It's as if my identity as a person hinged on my husband and family, and now that my husband is gone, I'm a non-person...invisible...valueless...
And now I also wonder how many hundreds, no, thousands of other women in my age range feel the same way? Are we all treated as if our life is nothing, worthless, just a waste of space and air that someone more worthy could be inhabiting and breathing? Who advocates for the middle aged widow who has successfully fulfilled her duties in the home, raised her children, sacrificed for the good of the family, and held things together for all those years? No one. If you don't have a "work record" or "wage record", you pretty much just aren't worth bothering with.
I can't believe I am a fossil, a dinosaur, even in this modern world. Yet, that's what I and others in my situation are exactly. I've never abandoned my children to daycare. I've been with them through trials and victories. I've been to countless ballgames and school plays. I've even homeschooled the youngers so that they could have a moral education along with an academic one. I've sewn clothes, crafted gifts, gardened, canned, pinched pennies, played Dr. Mom when anyone was sick, written curriculum to save money, done this and that to generate a few extra dollars when things were tight. I stayed right at Danny's side all through his illness until he passed away. No, I wouldn't go back and do anything differently. I was blessed to be able to do it.
But after 35 years of being for the most part a wife and mother, I'm tossed to the wolves.
You can have your Great Society. You can have your liberal speeches. You can have your "no child left behind" and "war on poverty". You can have your equal rights. It all means zip when you're walking in my shoes. See, I don't have young children, so I don't "qualify" for benefits for families. I'm not over 60, so I don't qualify for widow's benefits. There is no retirement plan for someone like me. Being a middle aged white woman means I don't qualify for a lot of things including ongoing education.
I'm tossed to the wolves. "Sorry, honey. You're on your own now. Good luck." I'm not even given time to grieve my loss before the worries of daily living weigh on my shoulders. A month and two days ago, Danny died. I can still barely think straight, yet I have to fight these battles and do that alone.
So let the politicians speechify all they want. Let liberal groups protest every little nuance of what they perceive to be mistreatment. Let the anchormen and anchorwomen rail against sloppy government aid in various situations. They are all wasting their time unless they are getting in the trenches and offering flesh-and-blood help to real individual people - not some imaginary mass of persons they'll never meet face to face.
The thing is, I don't want the moon. My total desire is to have a modest home and the ability to pay normal bills. I want to be able to do this with dignity and not be made to feel as if I'm some slug that just slid in for a handout. I want to be perceived as a person with value.
I am not the masses.
I'm Ann.
Wednesday I went to a local agency that helps with energy assistance. I went in the morning but didn't have a needed piece of paperwork, so I went across town to get that. The energy assistance place said to come back at 1 with that and with a form I needed to fill out for them. I stopped where Elizabeth works and she bought my lunch for me.
I talked to my grown niece on the phone and she met me at the deli with an application for a job. It's cleaning offices. I filled that out and she took it back with her to turn in. She and I can work as a team doing the cleaning. It's not a huge income, but it's a little and I believe it's something I can do. We will probably work in the evenings. That way, it leaves my days open for regular daytime things.
I went back to the energy assistance place to be met by a line of 11 other people there for the same reason. It was after 3 PM before I was seen by anyone, and the chairs they have caused havoc with my back while I was there, but I was approved for a partial bill-pay on the electric. It's about half what's due and will really help. I had hoped that under the current circumstances I'd qualify for the full amount. I don't know what it takes for that, but apparently I'm too wealthy for it.
You know, most days I'm in fairly good spirits. I know my God loves me and has a plan.
But other days, my spirits are low. I feel like - I'm 54 years old, have been a fulltime wife and mother, have taken care of our needs, helped in church, been a good steward with our resources, raised good children, and tried to stay out of the "system" all I can, but now I'm being thrown under the bus. That nothing I've ever done has amounted to a hill of beans. That I have no value as a human being anymore. It's as if my identity as a person hinged on my husband and family, and now that my husband is gone, I'm a non-person...invisible...valueless...
And now I also wonder how many hundreds, no, thousands of other women in my age range feel the same way? Are we all treated as if our life is nothing, worthless, just a waste of space and air that someone more worthy could be inhabiting and breathing? Who advocates for the middle aged widow who has successfully fulfilled her duties in the home, raised her children, sacrificed for the good of the family, and held things together for all those years? No one. If you don't have a "work record" or "wage record", you pretty much just aren't worth bothering with.
I can't believe I am a fossil, a dinosaur, even in this modern world. Yet, that's what I and others in my situation are exactly. I've never abandoned my children to daycare. I've been with them through trials and victories. I've been to countless ballgames and school plays. I've even homeschooled the youngers so that they could have a moral education along with an academic one. I've sewn clothes, crafted gifts, gardened, canned, pinched pennies, played Dr. Mom when anyone was sick, written curriculum to save money, done this and that to generate a few extra dollars when things were tight. I stayed right at Danny's side all through his illness until he passed away. No, I wouldn't go back and do anything differently. I was blessed to be able to do it.
But after 35 years of being for the most part a wife and mother, I'm tossed to the wolves.
You can have your Great Society. You can have your liberal speeches. You can have your "no child left behind" and "war on poverty". You can have your equal rights. It all means zip when you're walking in my shoes. See, I don't have young children, so I don't "qualify" for benefits for families. I'm not over 60, so I don't qualify for widow's benefits. There is no retirement plan for someone like me. Being a middle aged white woman means I don't qualify for a lot of things including ongoing education.
I'm tossed to the wolves. "Sorry, honey. You're on your own now. Good luck." I'm not even given time to grieve my loss before the worries of daily living weigh on my shoulders. A month and two days ago, Danny died. I can still barely think straight, yet I have to fight these battles and do that alone.
So let the politicians speechify all they want. Let liberal groups protest every little nuance of what they perceive to be mistreatment. Let the anchormen and anchorwomen rail against sloppy government aid in various situations. They are all wasting their time unless they are getting in the trenches and offering flesh-and-blood help to real individual people - not some imaginary mass of persons they'll never meet face to face.
The thing is, I don't want the moon. My total desire is to have a modest home and the ability to pay normal bills. I want to be able to do this with dignity and not be made to feel as if I'm some slug that just slid in for a handout. I want to be perceived as a person with value.
I am not the masses.
I'm Ann.
Labels: Danny journal
posted by Ann crum @ 7:26 AM
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