The group that shows up for our weekly gathering is a pretty decent sort. Some regulars show their appreciation and respect by waiting at the sidewalk for me to pull up, and they unload my car for me and carry everything to the picnic tables. Some of them make a point of complimenting the meal and thanking me by name. And since my return from the attack I have encountered only a fraction of the level of snark and complaints we got about the food or anything else; even the new folks seem to know my story already, and are very polite. Some of them definitely have their issues, but some are genuinely just in a difficult season, and have managed to find work and have moved on. Some of those people stop by occasionally just to let us know that they've gotten back on their feet, One such person who got a job as a trucker texted me to let me know he was in town and wanted to stop by this week It's a blessing to know that your efforts are appreciated and have borne fruit, even more so to know that you've built up trust and respect. But that help comes out of giving (hopefully from some sort of abundance), from some sort of supply of strength, out of a conscious effort to do something positive. I was reminded that we are often most able to be useful when we are at our weakest and vulnerable.
I do not have it all together. No one does. The issue is the level of denial about it. But I also recognize and acknowledge and most of all respect the kind of strength and courage it takes to acknowledge one's baggage and come to grips with it. No one does it willingly; it's usually a Scylla/Charibis kind of moment you choose between the pain of staying where you are, and the pain of grappling with an issue. I have, among other things, issues with my mom, with which I'm currently dealing. I don't mind talking about them, but I know that I can't do this safely or comfortably with everyone. I may go in depth in some future post but this is coming out because it's part of the story here.
As i mentioned before, a former regular got it together, found regular work as a trucker, has since gotten engaged to his high school sweetheart (who has made some mistakes of her own since high school) back east, While he mainly drives on the east coast, he schedules a west coast run at least once a year just so he can stop by and visit. I ended up chatting with him for a good two hours after everyone else left this past Tuesday night. The conversation eventually turned to me and how things were going. I told him that while I really needed the money, I was taking a break from my new career in sales because I had come to realize that there was something in my past that was holding me back, and I related a very personal story from my childhood and how that incident had affected my behavior ever since, and that I was trying to deal with this and adapt my behavior and thinking. I was totally unprepared for his response in how vulnerable and open he was about his past. You need to understand that he's typically a very quiet type and when he does respond in conversation, tends to do so in snark mode.
He talked about siblings he doesn't even know, because of circumstances that led to him being in foster care starting at the age of 3 months until he was 18, and how being a trucker is more of less a continuation of the experience of always moving from foster home to foster home as a child. But most significantly, he talked about how he knew he needed counseling and how he wanted to put down roots somewhere eventually, and how he was determined to break the chain of abuse in his family history in how he was going to raise his future stepdaughters.
And the thing is, he never would have shared that with me and given me a chance to support him in his struggles before I was willing to acknowledge my struggles and be open about my point in the process.
