December 28, 2013
SIDS
I ran into a woman named Seven this morning on my last round on - funny enough - Seventh Street. I first came upon Seven almost two years ago, when I saw a very pregnant, and very drunk, woman staggering down Bay Street at 5:30 in the morning. I called 911, as I was horrified to see this combination, and thought it HAD to be against the law. Months later, I saw her pushing a stroller down Central Park and she was with Tamara, the other hooker I had become acquainted with. I had to make a cat stop, and she stopped and asked if I had any money, or something (I've recorded all this in past blogs if you've read from that far back - my mind is going!). She told me how she loved cats and thought I was doing a beautiful thing, and that she was feeding at her 'home' also.
We have run into each other many times since, and "Henry", her baby, was a sweet little boy. I always thought, after I had seen the two of them, what a life he was being brought up in. Very sad. Well, this morning, when I got out to give her my usual hug, she was crying and trembling and told me Henry had died, and that she had just buried him yesterday. He died of SIDS. It was heartwrenching to see her stand there and sob her eyes out. Now, who knows if that was the real cause, or what, but it was certainly for real. I tried to comfort her with words, but how can you ever comfort someone who has lost a child. A young black guy had been walking towards us and he apparently knew her, and he stopped to talk and pointed out to her that I was her savior, that he saw me 'every day coming to feed the cats', and I said yes, we all need a purpose, a passion. I said God doesn't give us any more than we can handle. It was a rather chaotic conversation actually, at 6 am. in the dark, with a hysterical woman somewhat loud, and here I am trying to stifle their loud voices so that no one would call the police, although, in those neighborhoods, I am sure they are used to loud voices.
Anyways, that was sad, and I am so grateful for my life, the one my mother provided for me. I am so grateful my life didn't turn down the wrong path. Some people lead such sad lives. But there is hope for everyone, I firmly believe this. So I will say a little prayer for sweet little Henry, and his mom.
That's it, have a good weekend everyone.
We have run into each other many times since, and "Henry", her baby, was a sweet little boy. I always thought, after I had seen the two of them, what a life he was being brought up in. Very sad. Well, this morning, when I got out to give her my usual hug, she was crying and trembling and told me Henry had died, and that she had just buried him yesterday. He died of SIDS. It was heartwrenching to see her stand there and sob her eyes out. Now, who knows if that was the real cause, or what, but it was certainly for real. I tried to comfort her with words, but how can you ever comfort someone who has lost a child. A young black guy had been walking towards us and he apparently knew her, and he stopped to talk and pointed out to her that I was her savior, that he saw me 'every day coming to feed the cats', and I said yes, we all need a purpose, a passion. I said God doesn't give us any more than we can handle. It was a rather chaotic conversation actually, at 6 am. in the dark, with a hysterical woman somewhat loud, and here I am trying to stifle their loud voices so that no one would call the police, although, in those neighborhoods, I am sure they are used to loud voices.
Anyways, that was sad, and I am so grateful for my life, the one my mother provided for me. I am so grateful my life didn't turn down the wrong path. Some people lead such sad lives. But there is hope for everyone, I firmly believe this. So I will say a little prayer for sweet little Henry, and his mom.
That's it, have a good weekend everyone.
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