"Broken Bird"

Her name is Shea. For a couple weeks now she has been living with us.

Rich tends to have what I refer to as a "broken bird syndrome".  These aren't literal winged creatures, rather the two footed kind. Or in this case, one. Rich befriends and helps people who need it, to the best of his ability. All too often it backfires on him. His "friends" haven't tended to let his kindness stop them from stealing his things, or damaging the house, though to be fair, many times the ones doing the damage have been those connected to his "broken birds" and are the reason these "birds" have been or remain broken. These "birds" can be male or female, including one homeless gentleman named Paul who likes occasionally to trade a little work for either cash or a piece of jewelry which he hopes will gain him the favors of a female companion. A lot of weeds have gotten pulled in his cause.

Rich's last serious relationship, back in Minnesota, was with a woman who left an abusive marriage, and theirs wasn't a very good relationship because she hadn't learned how to trust - or better said, how to know whom to trust - so she couldn't commit to this one. It was on again, off again, up until Rich finally left and came south. She died from melanoma a year or so back.

Even some of those relationships limited to basic kindness and friendship haven't done well, with many of those people unable to abandon abusers or being abused by those unwilling to let them go in the slightest ways, including a few minutes of friendly conversation. A notable one I won't name was the kind of friend whom he just talked to casually, but offering support. The abuser was also a pimp, it turned out, and the abuse heaped on her finally contributed to ending her life about a year ago. With her death, her abuser's attention to our family abated, thank goodness, but I still haven't quit wondering if he's behind other things like the periodic presence at night of a drone in our patio or carport caught on cameras. (Security systems can be both great and their information unsettling.)

Rich travels these days via a bicycle, often toting a trailer behind it which he built out of scrap pieces and rescued wheels / tires. The latest iteration (he keeps improving them)  is strong enough to haul another person behind his bike, provided they are not too heavy. It was on one of his outings with that when he passed by Shea. She'd been abandoned by the person who'd dropped her off and promised to pick her back up  later. They never returned. She was also without her wheelchair, any extra clothing, and any personal items or supply of food from where she'd been staying. She was simply stuck. Rich couldn't just pass her by without doing something.

The wheelchair was necessary because the piece of trash she'd been in her last relationship with had kicked her out of a moving car during some kind of argument, then driven over her. Before you ask, she hasn't gotten up what it takes to overcome her fears and tell the police exactly who he was. It wasn't his only abuse of her. It did, however, cost her a leg. The short thigh stump has healed in the meantime, and she's almost ready for the next step, putting some kind of a constricting "sock" over the stump to start squeezing out excess fluid to shrink it before fitting a prosthetic leg, one that will transfer her weight to be supported by her hip, not the bottom of her stump.

For the last couple weeks she has been sharing space - very cluttered space, because Richard - in our house. She's warm, safe, fed. I've driven her to where her clothing and personal effects, few as they are, were being stored, with Rich along to give help getting her in/out of the car and supported by a walker, which was the very first thing we did for her, a small purchase from the local thrift shop. It's a nice one, wheels and a seat, and we'll keep it when she doesn't want it any more. Which will be soon. She has a non-wheeled walker, which is more stable for her and easier to get through, say, the bathroom door. She also has a wheelchair, which Rich helped her pick up since it was being stored (by a friend?) a couple miles away. The trip  to get her two small bags of clothes was impossible via bike/trailer, about a 110 mile round trip. I didn't mind getting out and getting the car going for more than a two minute run. It needed it. As a bonus we all got to see snow covering the tall mountains about two ridges out from "the valley". A few of those  atmospheric river dumps on California have lived long enough to bless us as well.

Shea celebrated her 33rd birthday here yesterday. Rich baked her a cake, but we didn't load her down with presents because that would just be more stuff to find a home for in an already very crowded location, and to haul around to wherever her next stopping place will be. We're working on a women's shelter, and I doubt she'll give out that driver's name until she's got long term safe shelter with all the connections to social services she needs, but they are crowded and have waiting lists. She does get food stamps (whatever they are called these days), and a little bit of child support even though the kids for now are with their father, another in a line of abusers. It can't be helped for now. She has a couple of friends who come and pick her up for a few hours here and there, for company, food shopping or food shelf visits, hunting for more clothing, etc. Right now one took her to a medical appointment.

She is quiet, shy, and we almost never know she is here if not for a trip to the bathroom, or having to pass by her on the way to letting the dog out in the back yard. She makes sure to thank us for anything, from hygiene items to a ride, and helps by cleaning the bathroom while sitting, or getting Rich to toss some of his clutter which he, until then, remained convinced would be useful... someday, some way yet unknown.  The space is getting organized and a garage sale is actually planned for this weekend. It should be in the 80s then, and she can sit out in the carport and make change, proffer bags, chat up the customers, though that latter is Rich's forte. Since it's forecast to be in the 80s for almost a week, we hope she can soon enjoy more backyard time comfortably.

But she is still doing a whole lot of recovering, physically and emotionally. She startles easily, an extreme reaction, helping Rich learn he needs to redirect his frustration into anything that doesn't remind her of previous violence. Even snapping his fingers sets her off. Steve and I have come to an accommodation with our unexpected guest and stopped asking Rich regularly just how long she'll be here. Things have been started, like applying for space in a women's shelter. She doesn't bring trouble, and is doing her best to be useful, is providing her own food, is absent when she can be, safely. We are hopeful that by the time she leaves she can begin to trust that not everybody in her life has to be abusive, and she can start down a healthier road.