Years of Work and Worry

  I've been thinking all day about how I was going to write this particular blog.  At this very moment I search for the right combination of words so that people understand the humbling, tearful thought process that goes into baring certain aspects of your life for all the world to see, yet making a rational point at the same time.  My wife and I are doing ok, this blog is strictly an observation, not a request. You'll see what I mean.
  This past April, after eight days in the hospital, my physician told me that I could no longer work. At that point in time I contacted a disability attorney.  I know I've told people in the last few weeks, that I'm on disability, but I'm actually still in the appeal process.  I tell people I'm on disability so they don't think badly about me, "oh, that bum ain't working". Truth is I can't. Believe me when I tell you, and all of you know me, I'm a worker.  It pains me not to work.  We only one have income, and that is my wife's. Out of  her paycheck comes everything.  Thank the Good Lord for Dr. Madden and the Community Health Center, with out them, I would be hurting.  Thank the Good Lord for their prescription assistance program, with out it, I would be hurting.  Thank the Good Lord for the drug companies that donate medicine to me on a monthly basis, without them, I'd be hurting. 
  This past April, after being released from the hospital, and no longer able to work, well, my wife and I didn't plan for any of this to happen.  Financially, we were hurting, badly.  After a couple of days of not eating, my wife and I frantically searched for a local food bank.  the Good Lord delivered and brought us to St. Joseph's Food Pantry in Menasha.  Going to in to apply, I was nervous, I was ashamed. I had always provided for my family, provided well.  The lady who processed our application took all of the nervousness and shame away. She went on to tell me that she was a volunteer there, and we would not believe the number of people that attend this one single pantry.  We were then given a card, a box of essentials, and went through the line. Every volunteer that was working greeted us with a smile and a "Good Morning."  We went away with enough food for the week.  You know, I don't want to sound like a sap, but here goes..The next week we went back to the food bank, it was very, very crowded.  As I sat waiting, I actually started to cry, but so no one could see, wiped my tears just as fast as they were falling.  I'd never seen anything like this before in my life, there were well over a hundred people there, and there were kids, and kids were crying, I don't know if it was because they were hungry or what.  There was young, old, White, Black, Hispanic, Vietnamese, hunger doesn't discriminate.  I was able to help one young mother out who had a crying kid with a piece of candy I had in my pocket, in case my blood sugar drops, she was grateful, as was her little son.  You could literally see the years of work and worry on many faces, some people don't even look up, as though they had given up.
  I guess I'm going to sum it all up by saying that one never knows what another is going through. If your ever blessed enough to have excess in your pantry, please donate to your local food bank.  Thanks for reading.  See you tomorrow.

George