Dave

Yesterday after work I was walking with some friends from the office towards the downtown core. It was nice out, we were mid-conversation, and I was headed to the Eaton Centre to meet my boyfriend. When we passed Dave, I barely glanced up.

"Can you buy me a chocolate milk?" he asked, holding out a handful of change. "I have the money."

I shook my head before even thinking about it. My friends and I apologized and kept walking. A few steps down the road I stopped in my tracks. Dave had moved on and was asking the next person to buy him a chocolate milk. I looked around. I couldn't see a convenient store where I could run and get him something quickly. I looked at my watch. I would be late if I stopped, and I would hold my friends up. I kept walking.

Here is what I know about Dave:
1) His leg is amputated and he is in a wheelchair.
2) He has some type of cognitive disability.
3) He hangs around Cabbagetown (my neighbourhood) every day and has been doing so since I moved here two years ago.
4) He is somewhere between 55 and 65 years old.
5) He takes his coffee with six sugars.

There are a lot of things I don't know about Dave. I don't know why he is on the street. I don't know where he sleeps at night or if he has family. I don't know what happened to cause his legs to be amputated. I do know that for the two years I have been living here, I have never given Dave the time of day.

Two years ago Sarah at SCH wrote the post Grow Old With Me. I spent a lot of time the next day thinking about that, and thinking about how I had walked away, only caring about myself. My neighbourhood is full of homeless people, and I don't think I have to stop for every one, but this was different. Not only did he have the money in his hand, but Dave has special needs. He is the adult version of so many kids that I love. At one time in his life, Dave was a child. Someone loved him. Someone had dreams for him. There are many teenagers and young adults at SCH right now. They are bright, funny, happy young men and women who were a joy to be around. Where would they be if it weren't for Sarah? Would they, like Dave, be living on the street, asking for food?



What about the little ones? They are small and cute now, but what about 20, 30, or 40 years from now? They have SCH, and likely will be safe, fed, and loved there. But what if they had never been brought to SCH? Where would these beautiful kids be?


This doesn't only apply to India. I think of the kids I work with here in Toronto who have loving families. I remember watching a documentary where a mother, whose daughter was autistic, said that her biggest fear was that her daughter would outlive her, because she wouldn't be able to guarantee her care.

This was a reminder to me. First of all, a reminder to be more aware of the people around me. To think less of my schedule and my plans and my life, and more about what I can do to serve others. Second, a reminder that as people grow, their need for love doesn't diminish. I spend so much of my time focusing on the little ones, but I need to open my heart to those that are already grown. They are just as deserving, and there is probably a lot I can learn from them.

After work the following day I passed Dave on the street and asked him if I could get him anything. "No, someone is getting me a juice," he said, pointing to a middle aged woman crossing the street with an apple juice in hand. "Are you hungry?" I asked. "I'm okay... I had supper," he told me. I wished him a good night and went along my way.

Be Still

Here it is, the video I was working on. Please do me a favour. Please share this with at least 1 friend. I want the world to know about this little girl. I want everyone to be inspired by her the way I was. She was incredible. This is her story.

Let Love In

Writing is healing for me, and yet I have had a hard time writing. My last post, written the day after I got the news that Anjali died, flowed so easily. I had so many different emotions and just needed to get them out. Now, I find I have little to say. I still feel angry, sad, confused.... I am still working on figuring out what I will do now. I know she was in my life for a reason. How do I take the love and passion I had for this little girl and turn it into something greater than her and I? These are the things I am wrestling with, as I also deal with the grief and the reality that I won't again get to hold her, sing to her, and hear her laugh.

At the top of my blog I have a few "pages" - things that I hope people click on right when they come across my blog, to learn more about what I am all about. I created a page for Anjali. It is titled Anjali (Let Love In) and I would love for you to read it. After her death, I was able to read some of her files and learned a lot about her history that I hadn't know, that is shared in that post. The things she went through make me ache for her even more, but also make me more proud of her. She was so brave.

These photos were taken 8 months ago. She looks so happy. She looks so strong. A volunteer took them for me and sent them, and then I had saved my favourites. I re-discovered the entire album today, and I could look at them over and over again. What a joy she was.

I am starting to move from anger and confusion (why? why did this have to happen?) to action. She was in my life for a reason, that much is very, very clear to me. It is up to me to make sure her legacy lives on, that is also clear. I am determining the best way to do this. I am working on a video that shares her life story. I am working with Sarah M. to plan our Ability Camp in India this summer. As hard as it is to plan it, knowing she won't be a part of it anymore, it is helping me, as I can channel all my feelings and make something good come out of it. One of the kids, Cedar, is bind, like Anjali. We have added Jasmine to the program as well. At 4 years old, she reminds me a lot of Anjali. She is blind, and as she gets older it seems like she is closing off her life to others and going into her own world, just as Anjali had. Can Sarah and I help open her up? She has no special needs other than her blindness. Can we give her the confidence and strength she needs to walk? I am trying to focus my energy on planning activities for the kids that will make them feel loved and will motivate them to that next level of mobility. With each moment of planning I think of Anjali, and it is never easy.

I am so lucky to have such incredible people in my life. Friends, some that I have never even met and just know online through a shared love of SCH, have sent me messages, cards, and advice. Particuarly the SCH staff who have been through this before have been really helpful with supporting me in feeling peace about it, but others who have never met Anjali and knew nothing about her life have provided just as much support. I definitely feel very loved.

I am rambling, I know that. I haven't been able to write all week, and now that I am, I can't stop. I miss her. Some days are hard. Sometimes I feel perfectly fine and then will think of her and my heart just sinks. I am ready to go to India because I feel very strongly now that I need to be there. I need to be in the place where this incredible little girl lived and died. I need to hug her ayah, Nagendram (pictured) and thank her for loving Anjali. I need to hold Molly in my arms. Molly lived and slept next to Anjali and shared her ayah. Does she understand or grasp that Anjali is gone? I'm not sure, but I feel a strong pull towards her. I think when I arrive at those SCH gates on that first day, I will go first to Molly. She was closest to April. I think I will feel closest to her there.

Anjali

I got a call from Sarah in India the other day. April died. I feel like the breath is knocked out of me... like I was kicked in the gut.

April was her blog name. She was always Anjali to me, which is her real name, and that is what I am going to call her in this post. It makes it more real for me. I still feel like maybe it was all some nightmare, but it's not.

I don't know too many details. It is hot right now in India, very hot. A bunch of the kids are sick in hospitals. Before I left for work on Saturday, I saw an SCH tweet saying that 4 kids were in the hospital. Do you know what I thought? Thank God Anjali is so healthy now, and hasn't been sick since I left. I would be so worried if it was her, but I knew it wasn't. I was sure of it. And yet, it was her. As I was assisting in my morning class at March of Dimes, she was being buried. I feel sick about it.

Sarah called me to tell me, which I appreciate so much. The phone had static and I didn't hear what she said at first. I missed the beginning of the sentence and thought she was talking about another little girl who had just been brought from the government orphanage and died after only a day or 2 at SCH. She had to repeat herself and even then it didn't really sink in. I felt numb. I thanked her for telling me and got off the phone and didn't move for five minutes. Then I convinced myself I had misunderstood. I had to facebook message her to confirm. Seeing it written was what I needed and I just cried and cried.

I don't know how to put to words the way I am feeling. I am angry, I am sad, I am numb, I am confused. Why would this happen? If there is a God (and I think there is) why would he put her on this earth, blind and disabled, to suffer and die at age 8? Not to say her life was full of suffering, because she found so much joy, but her life was difficult. Why would he bring her to SCH, a place where she could thrive, and then take her away?

I couldn't sleep last night. I called Sarah M. and we cried on the phone together. I am so thankful that there are a few people in my life who understand. I know that for those people who don't know me well, they won't understand why this is hurting me so much. I only knew her for a short time, and I haven't even seen her in 2 years. But I was 2 months away. 2 months away from holding her again, and I now I never will. 2 months away from hearing this giggle. When I think of Anjali, I think her her giggle. The morning after I got the news, I spent some time looking at pictures and watching videos. I found this video, that I hadn't uploaded to youtube yet. This was almost exactly 2 years before her death. It was at the beginning of my trip, when I was just getting to know her. It was the first time I heard her laugh and I remember it so clearly.


Anjali changed my life. I spent nearly every moment with her for a month; May 2010. She is the reason I am quitting my job, going back to school, and switching fields to work with the special needs community. She is the reason I am going back to India in July. I don't understand why she was brought into my life. I don't understand why, for all this time, I have thought about her every day, sponsored her, prayed for her, loved her.... for her to be taken away. I am having a hard time thinking about going back to India, with her not there. One part of me wants to not get on the plane and never hear anything about India for the rest of my life. Thankfully, the other part of me is able to push through that, but in the hours after hearing the news, that is how I felt. I don't know my purpose at SCH anymore. I don't know my purpose in general. I was going back to work with her. She was so close to walking independantly. I know she could have done it. I had so much faith in her. She was a fighter. I used to dream about walking through the gates of Victory Home, where she lived, and scooping her up and smothering her with kisses. I have dreamed about that for 2 years. Walking through those gates is going to have a very different feeling now and a part of me is dreading it a little bit. I almost don't want to build any relationships with the other kids. So many of them have died, and it is too hard. I know that's not fair, and I know it's not right, but I will probably guard my heart more.

As you can probably tell, most of me is feeling sad and angry right now. However, there is a little piece of me that is thankful. Not thankful she died, not at all, but thankful for the factors surrounding it. She was brought to a hospital. She wasn't alone. She was cried for. Not just by me, but by others as well. She was loved, and SCH made the last two and a half years of her life so much better than what they had been. She had Sarah, and Nagendram, and all the SCH staff, who were a family for her. I am thankful for that.

A part of me is also in awe. Anjali lived for eight years, and her life impacted so many people. I think that's something to be celebrated. She was a fighter, she was sassy, she was joyful, she was strong. When she was abandoned, I can imagine her parents saw a sickly baby with no eyes. Perhaps they couldn't care for her, or perhaps they thought she was worthless, with her special needs. I won't ever know. But I do know that she wasn't worthless. She made a difference in this world just by being the beautiful person she is. Words can't really explain how much I am going to miss her presence in this world. I love you, Anjali.


To read more about Anjali's impact, go to my posts Without Words, One Year Later, and Happy Birthday April.

Scattered

Things around here are moving along nicely. Nothing huge and exciting to blog about, but lots of small, scattered things keeping me busy as I gear up to finish my job, move, go to India, and start school. Here are a few things worth sharing...

SCH has a new website! It is beautiful. Best part of all, there is a new blog post! Click on Sugar and Spice to read it. It is all about Ginger, one of the little girls who lives there. Ginger is one of the kids I got to know quite well. The picture of her with the pink flowers in the blue and green dress was taken when I was there, at the park. I could read this post over and over again. It is a perfect example of how love can change someone's life. Ginger is happy, thriving, and even walking!! My goal this summer is to get more kids up and walking. It brings a new level of independance to their lives. This is proof that it can happen!

I had my first day at March of Dimes. I LOVE it. I felt like I learned so much that I can take with me to India, and to wherever I end up working after I graudate. Really excited about this opportunity, and the kids I get to work with are precious. They are from all different abilities and levels of involvement, ranging from age 4 to 14 (in the 2 classes I assist in). Perhaps the biggest thing I am learning is to allow room for independance in every way possible- not doing things for the kids that they can learn to do themselves, or that we can do together. For example, after class is over we have to put their socks, AFOs, and shoes back on. None of the kids can do this completely on their own. But can they help pull up their socks? Can they tug the strap on their AFO's? I find my mindset is really shifting and I am beginning to look at every activity and think about how they can do it with minimal support.

Can you do me a favour? Like the Education Fund Facebook page. I currently have 42 likes. This is where I post, every other day or every few days, with updates on the kids. Would be great to get these updates out to a larger group of people!

While you are liking the page, don't forget to read the latest update! I have an April Updates post up, and the May updates will be coming soon. Lots of exciting things happening, and only $380 left to raise!! EEK! Poor Yoandi is at home sick right now with an infected molar. Sponsors covered the doctor visit and medicine. He will return in 15 days to get the molar pulled, and we still need to raise $20 (800 pesos) to cover that.


I got some bad news from a program that I used to work with in Africa (I don't want to say what country/program, as it will give away who I am talking about and I am not sure I want to say who it is, to protect her privacy). A 15-year old girl that I know well is pregnant. She is kicked out of school and possibly being kicked out of her home as well. She was (is) so bright and had such a future ahead of her. In this country, as in most underdeveloped parts of the world, there are few job opportunities unless you have higher education. There is also very little sex education. I am really sad for her right now.

My Indian Visa has arrived! One step closer to my trip. My friend Leslie is leaving for India in a week to bring her gorgeous son Naveen home. Check out her blog, Recovering Noah. It is one of my favourites. She is awesome. Anyways, she has been so wonderful and offered to pick me up some Indian clothes on her trip. She will be in Delhi, and the quality of clothes there is so much better than in Ongole (my Ongole pants ripped up the entire seam on my first day wearing them). So excited to open that package in the mail, I am obsessed with Indian clothes! 2 months, 19 days!!!