I Met a Woman

This morning I did something I've never done before ... I accidentally took my dinnertime dose of medication at breakfast. I'm still not sure how I did, because I have my breakfast and dinner meds in one of those 7-day a.m. and p.m. pill container thingys. I realized what I had done just about the time the pills slid down my throat, and my first thought was, "Well, that can't be good." I stood at my kitchen counter for a few minutes contemplating what I should do ... and then I decided I would have to just skip the meds I normally take in the morning and hope I didn't go off the deep end during the day at work. One conference room sobbing meltdown in a lifetime is quite enough, and I already did that last year. You see, I take double the diabetes medication at dinner as I do at breakfast, and I was afraid to take my cocktail of antidepressants on top of the extra diabetes drugs. I went on to work hoping that my both my blood sugar and my mood didn't plummet and send me into either a coma or a really cruddy mood. While my blood sugar stayed within a normal range all day, by about 4:00 I knew that my mental state wasn't going to fare as well. By the time I got home around 6:00, I was in a really, really, really bad mood. It didn't help that I have to have blood taken in the morning ... I always get cranky the night before I have to visit the vampire at my doctor's office.

After I fed Julie and Ollie and myself, I hopped on my laptop to check my email. Bad, bad idea. Remember last night when I wrote about receiving some not very nice emails over the last month or so? Well, there were several tonight, and most of them were from people I know ... so much for making my bad mood worse. Then I opened my work email to check on something for tomorrow morning and saw that I had an email from one of the project managers saying that she had left a stack of proofing on my desk that needed to be done as soon as I arrived at work tomorrow following my doctor's appointment. I decided that I should go back to work and do the proofing tonight so that in case my doctor's appointment ran longer than I anticipated, I wouldn't hold up the proofing process. I put on my coat and took Ollie for a walk ... sometimes walking is the best medicine when that sadness washes through my mind, and if ever I needed some walking meds, it was tonight. But when Ollie and I got home, I knew that my mood hadn't improved one little bit ... in fact, I was even crankier than I was before we set out on our walk. Ollie and I walked for about a half-hour, and then I put him in the car and we headed back downtown to my office.

When I finished proofing the work the project manager had left for me, I gathered Ollie in my arms and carried him and the stack of work upstairs and placed them in the P.M.'s chair. The minute I put Ollie on the floor, he took off running to the desk of one of my favorite young men at work. I didn't realize Micah was upstairs working, and as I heard him call Ollie's name, I couldn't help but smile. I love Micah ... he is an awesome young man in so many ways, and I am proud and honored that he's my friend. By the time I walked around to Micah's desk, Ollie was jumping up toward him as he tried his best to kiss his face. Micah was laughing as he played with my crazy little wiener dog, and I smiled as my heart instantly warmed at the sight of the two of them. We chatted for a bit, and after I went downstairs and turned off my computer, Micah and I set the alarm on our building, climbed into our cars and drove in two different directions as we left the parking lot.

I always drive down the alley behind our building when I leave work and turn left onto one of the main roads to make my way to the interstate. As I approached the main road tonight, something in the parking lot to my left caught my attention. I slowed down to see what the object was, and at first glance I thought it was a big box covered with a large trash bag. But then ... but then the bag moved, and yes, it scared the living daylights out of me. Thinking it was a mountain lion or a giant rat or Bigfoot, I instinctively hit the automatic lock button on the panel of my car door. But then ... but then I saw her face, and yes, my eyes were immediately brimming with tears. I could tell that she was older, and I could see that she was trying to wrap the plastic trash bag around her body. I saw that she had on shorts and a t-shirt and socks ... but no shoes. I looked at the outside temperature reading on my car and saw that it was 46 chilly degrees.

Remember when I wrote about the day that I spilled water all over my jeans at work and ended up wearing one of our freelancer's gym shorts for the afternoon? Well, since that day, I always keep an extra pair of jeans and a hooded sweatshirt in the trunk of my car just in case I have another accident and need dry clothes. The woman seemed not to notice me as I sat in my car talking to Oliver the wiener dog ... "It's dark out here, Ollie. What if it's a trick and some guys are waiting to shoot me and steal my car? It's late, and I'm tired. Let's just go home, Ollie ... someone else will come along and help her. Or the police will pick her up. Let's just go home, wiener dog." And then I turned into the parking lot and pulled up next to the old woman and got out of my car to talk to her.

Her name is Gert, and she's 78 years old. She's been homeless for five years ... she lost her home after her husband Franklin passed away. She has no living family, and she spends her days collecting aluminum cans and her nights trying to find a place to lay her head and get some sleep. She was once a teacher, and she knows how to play the piano and the saxophone. I gave her the clothes and a blanket from the trunk of my car. I gave her the cash I had in my wallet from a rebate check I had cashed at the bank yesterday. I gave her the food from my lunchbox and the snacks from my satchel. I gave her the walking shoes from my feet.

Her name is Gert, and she's 78 years old. Tonight, Gert is sleeping in the dumpster next to my office building ... she's wearing jeans and a hoodie ... she is wrapped in a blanket and she is eating food. And tonight, Gert has an old pair of well-worn walking shoes on her feet. She cried when I gave my things to her, and she asked me if I was an angel. My mind instantly flew back to a hot July day in 2011 ... a day when I met a very special man named Russell who said he thought I was an angel from the Lord. I told Gert the same thing I told Russell ... "I'm no angel, my friend ... I just want to make sure you're OK for tonight." I am beyond certain I'm no angel, but I'm equally certain that God orchestrated me going back to my office tonight. Even as I type those words, some other words are echoing in my mind ... "You keep listening, T. With ears wide open. I know that's not the saying. But it is today. Ears wide open." My faith has taken a beating over the last year or so, and I often feel that God has stopped talking to me. Tonight was a big lesson for me ... He's still talking ... I just need to open my ears and listen.

I met a woman tonight ... I met a woman, and my heart tells me I'll never forget her.