Bring Shelby Home

I’m not one to ask for help from anyone outside my own home but here I am. Three weeks ago an emergent situation was placed at my feet that I’m very much unprepared for. My sister Shelby is homeless. Call it unhoused or whatever you like but she has no home. A house is walls, roof, curtains, doors but a home is family. It’s where the people who care for you gather, spend holidays, grab a blanket and head for the couch and play an old movie. Shelby has neither. My goal here is to be able to find her a home of some sort, one she can sustain on her own, something humble and simple and better yet fill the cupboards with food. And possibly, maybe, be able to see her kids again. 

Shelby started out in this world the third of four kids, spicy, sassy, bratty (I’m her sister. I can say this), and a world class charmer. A large family squeezed into a small square house with one bathroom and one remote for the tv and a St Bernard at our feet. She learned to out run a big brother chasing her and annoyingly followed her big sister around everywhere. Time marches on though. Over the years she lost nearly everyone of those loved ones. Both brothers, mother, grandmother, and lastly her father. To cope, she started her own family. And it grew. And grew. She loved her kids and had a whole bunch and she was so proud of them all.

She became a full time mother. The problem is once a marriage starts to fail, many full time moms tend to submit to what their spouse and life brings them because their goal is to keep things glued together. Eventually she was at the mercy of a life that was many times out of her control. She only wanted what ‘the others’ have. A house, a home, food in the cupboards, kids on the school bus, movies on the couch. It unraveled slowly. Almost so slow she didn’t see what we were seeing. Her life became a series of struggles, losses and happiness diminished. Her charming, smiling blue eyes were a great front to hide her truth. When you can no longer hang on, depression, anxiety among other things kicks in and what’s left is anger. Anger makes us do stupid things. 

Allow me to be a voice of reason. Mistakes were made and probably will be again. Shelby’s lack of perfection can resonate with all of us. Going to a shelter is the ultimate in furthering her punishment for being a mom and imperfect wife. It’s defeat. A native born River Rat who has no one left to tangibly care, no one to show her what caring is or how it feels. Currently, she was forced to the streets in search of trying to rebuild life as an independent woman. There’s no easy answer that solves this problem of homelessness. Many unknowns. I get it. But hunger is still hunger and the lack of shelter means my blonde haired, blue eyed sister is on the mean dark streets. Trying to blend in using that charm and savviness. 

Now I can only ask for everyone’s help in bringing her to a better place, to lift her to a higher level, to feel cared for. She needs a home. She needs a roof over her head (camper, trailer, small apartment), cupboards with groceries in them, bus money, and it has to be sustainable until she can work with the incredibly slow system of our govt who, FYI, hasn’t returned a single call yet. The advice is easy, judgements are even easier. What’s hard is overlooking how it appears on the surface and offering even the smallest amount. This fundraiser is in my name until Shelby is on solid feet. We are currently scrambling to help but need everyone to pitch in. From the bottom of our hearts, we thank you in advance.