Like with most of us, money is often too tight to mention. We get up, go to work, and live paycheck to paycheck. We scrimp, we save, we pay one bill and ignore another to make it through the weeks, months, and years. Just when we think we’ve made enough headway, bam!, something breaks, implodes, melts, and shuffles off its mortal coils, cogs, couplings and components.

Such is the case with my son Hank’s used car. It has currently ceased to be—and may never roll again.

He only recently began a new job. Now his job is in jeopardy because transportation is necessary. His hope with this job was to begin to save money to return to college. Now, everything seems up in the air.

To make the wicket even stickier, I’m in my tenth year as a classroom assistant in our local public schools. If one knows the amount teachers make, then one can only guess what a classroom assistant (paraprofessional) makes. My ten-year raise was 8 cents. Like most of us out there, though, and is the case with me, we remain at our jobs because of our health insurance.

Last night, I posted on FB to ask friends out there if this was an unsavory means for me to seek a solution. I was encouraged by everyone’s response. So, here I am. It’s not easy for me to ask for help, and none of this is to garner sympathy. I realize some might be uncomfortable with the optics, but it is merely how things are.

We just need help.

(I’m also willing to make art for commission to raise money, too. You can contact me here or on FB messenger to inquire about that as well.)