It was the first time we openly shared the fact that we were broke -it felt odd. Part of me was relieved, the other part felt ashamed. Later that evening, we told him OUR STORY, not for pity or sympathy, but because we needed to confront reality. We had been so sheltered and comforted at my friend’s home, we had been so busy, it almost felt like we had been hiding from the harsh truth that we still were homeless (house-less), and had nothing but debt to our name.
She sat outside in the cold on the kitchen steps, smoked a cigarette right under the new quit-smoking sign we had now taped to the entry door. Our health inspection had gone well. We only needed an exit sign on the side door, like it would be possible to overlook a double door in a building that’s only 26’ x 20’. Minor complaints, easy fixes, and we passed with flying colors.
It all started out like an ordinary day. Kurt would leave the following morning and would be gone for two weeks. He stopped by the kitchen for a short while, we enjoyed a few test patties, later he went back to the house and spent the rest of the day in their bedroom, watched films, and packed his things.
At the moment my friend called herself an alcoholic, I knew she was telling me the truth. She had let the Gennie out of the bottle and there was no putting it back.
“Do you have a problem with alcohol?” “No Sir, I have a problem without.”
Who else would understand the love you have for your pets, then another pet owner who feels exactly the same way? The response to our provoking housing ad had been overwhelming, and just what we had needed. There was hope and it came in form of dog owners and pet lovers. Many were reaching out to us, sometimes only to wish us well.
Sunday morning when Kurt came out of the bedroom, I had to hold back laughter. Wearing new stiff jeans, new cowboy boots, a striped shirt, and a brand-new jacket, he looked like he had just stepped out of a western movie. All that was missing was a cowboy hat, which he showed us later.
When you travel to Africa, North America, or Asia, and you walk away from the typical tourist attractions you will see people sing and laugh, and you will be surprised to notice that often the loudest laughter and the greatest joy comes from the poorest of the poor.
Love happens at all ages and the silliness and lightheartedness that comes with it are enjoyable to watch. My friend was no exception. She looked beautiful and confident, had the inner glow only love can give. She added lipstick to her morning routine, she went clothes shopping. She wore the ring I had given her for Christmas, and finally, she showed off the necklace she had bought for herself many Christmases ago.
Friendship! How do you even begin to describe what it means and how it feels? It’s like trying to explain the weather. The heat of the sun, the softness of the rain, clouds moving in the sky, the silence before a storm, the smell of snow -we all experience it differently. My husband frowns when he sees snowflakes, and I get a dreamy smile on my face.
The Holiday Season is a time of reflection. Like a silent movie, the memories of the past and the faces of people I have loved, play in my head. I was sitting outside on the screened-in porch. I could hear them talk, I could hear them laugh. I had called the dogs and had stepped outside for a minute. I wanted to be alone. Christmas evening is special to me and 2009 was no exception. To this day I insist that MY CHRISTMAS is celebrated on the evening of December 24th, the Austrian way.