Count Me In!

I’m a person who’ve served my country and community.  I spent twenty years in the military and served as a volunteer coach for the little league baseball team in my community. 

One day I had devastating news that changed my life forever.  I learned that my wife of 30 years died suddenly and to no avail the autopsy did’not provide any reasons for her death.  Soon after I buried my wife, I got extremely depressed and I stopped living.  You see my wife was my life, she kept me motivated, inspired and alived. 

Who will be that person to assure me that it’s a dream when I have vivid images of the horrors of war? Who was going to cook my favorite dish using the right blend of herbs and spices, or fill the room with scents of jasmin and ginger?

You see, there was no one, and even if so, I would have refused to let her take that role.  So I stopped living altogether, I stopped working, stopped bathing, stopped paying my bills, after all why?  I couldn’t convinced myself anymore of the importance of these things?  In my mind, they were unecessary and I felt like I didn’t need these things any more.  Soon after her death it became unbearable for me to live in my house any longer as memories of her were everwhere.  I stopped paying the mortgage and lost it to the bank.  

A year after her death, I still found myself longing, needing her love and attention.  Everyone around me told me to move on, there were other things to live for, but I couldn’t.  I just didn’t have the strength or desire to live anymore.

It has now been twenty years since her death and I still grieve the lost of my wife, who was my best friend and my love.  I sometimes wish for her memory to be erased from my mind, at least I would be released from the pain and maybe I could put my life back together.  But her memory still lives on like it was just yesterday.   

Who am I you may ask?  You may have met me before and didn’t recognized me.  You might have passed me in the streets and turned your face away from me because you couldn’t stand the sight or even the smell of me.  You may have even thought when you saw me, get a job, get clean up, get off of drugs, do something worthwhile with your life.

You see, I am one of the millions of homeless people living in America with a story.  I am a person just like you, but I’ve suffered a terrible lost in my life and never recovered from it.  I’m the homeless man who sits on the corner everyday dreaming that one day my best friend will be returned to me.

Don’t feel sorry for me because it was my choice that got me here, just count me in and remember my brothers and sisters.  They too are people with personal stories.  Some more devastating, others not so devastating, just poor choices. 

Count me in and the millions of young children all across the world that are loosing their parents to AIDs, war, terriosm and senseless violence.

Count me in when you’re spending your money on things you don’t need, but want.  Think about giving it to a charity that addresses these types of issues.

Count me in when you’re shopping for clothes.  Buy an extra pair for my little sister who’s running around in a disease infested street in one of the poorest country of the world, Haiti.

Count me in by supporting the organization that removes land mines from fields so my little brother can play without the threat of danger.

Count me in when you’re buying food.  Support a church or organization that feeds families in need.

Just count me in, either in your thoughts or actions.