Pass It On

I was at work making people cry which I have to tell you is not uncommon for me since I spent over 20 years as a nurse. As a nurse, I was used to making people cry over injections, diagnoses, prognoses, and sometimes about just taking a shower. I am used to seeing people burst into tears when I have bad news. It still effects me, but I have learned over the years how to keep the calm and respect their tears without falling apart myself. I worked as a hospice nurse where I literally had to call people in and tell them their parent had died. What could be worse than that? Not much, I am sure. Maybe if I were a pediatric nurse who had to deliver that news to parents about their child, maybe that is worse. I make people cry for other reasons now. It isn't about their health, it's usually about their hopes and dreams. Working in financial aid, there are times when I am a dream crusher. One day last week I made five people cry, nearly in a row. I bought a box of tissues and leave them at my seat for just such occasions. I hate when I have to look someone in the eye and tell them that all their hopes and dreams will have to be put on hold or changed completely, and they will have to find another way to get where they need to go. I know there are those who think these situations aren't a big deal, but in one case the girl's brother was shot in the head and she had to help take care of him, leaving her school work behind. Another case a woman left her very abusive husband with her children and lived in a shelter for months, moving back to Houston to be with family only to find out we could not help her now, not never, just not now. Do you see why I am the dream killer? I have to point out all the red tape, the guidelines, the things that need to be secured in order for them to get any help. Do they deserve help? Sure they do, I think they do, and if it were up to me they would get it, but it's not. If it were up to my boss, my dean the people all around student services they would get what they need, but it's not. We do what we can. I am the face, in a way, of the department, the first person in a long list of people who touch their files. I try really hard to see each and every one of them, to not view them as a number, but to remember that I was them once a long time ago. I guess, that is why I like my job so much, this twisting and turning of guidelines and number crunching that helps people live up to a potential greater than most ever thought they could achieve. In some ways, I am living proof that great things can happen after tragedy, that good people, nice people do not always finish last, but learn and pass on whatever knowledge they have gained. Years ago when I was on my own with my kids, our finances hanging in the balance, I was in school, working two jobs and just doing whatever I could to hang on. One really bad month, a friend of mine, my supervisor at the time, told me to meet her in the parking lot. She popped her trunk and inside was food, a whole car load of food, paper towels, cookies, a week's worth of groceries to help us out. "I can't take this," I protested. "I am not dragging all this back home," she said smiling at me. Embarrassed, I put all the groceries in my car. Crying openly, I fell into her arms as she hugged me and said this, "You will be O.K. One day, when someone else needs a hand up, pass this on. We have to be here for each other, we have to help each other. It's how we will all survive." It was not the only time she helped me, not with money, but Ma Carol helped me with problems, giving advice, sharing a cup of coffee, making me laugh. To this day we still keep in contact and I try my level best to live in a way that would make her proud. I try my level best to pass it on, in whatever way I can. I love my job, I do. Not everyday is filled with tragedy, just some. Those are the days I remember from whence I came. I was single mother. I had really tragic times. When Danny died I had to take finals the very next week. I failed every one. I had to repeat the whole semester. I wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out, but I survived because Ma Carol put her hand out and helped lift me out. She didn't coddle me, she helped me help myself. I love when I get to help people get the assistance they need, so they can go to school and pass this on. I reiterate to them, when I can, that is the bigger picture for them and for me. One day they will be O.K. One day when they are doing well, they will be able to help someone else who is having a really hard time. One day in the not so far future they will be able to pass it on.