Living Your Life Purposefully — Episode #3
The People Who Lived in the Room Beneath the Stairs
Charity begins at home — Occupant #3 — Part III
Another vacancy filled
Occupant number three of the room beneath the stairs was a young woman named Gayna (name changed).
Gayna was actually an acquaintance of my mother’s. They came to know each other while in the military together.
She was the mother of a young son at the time, and I can recall much talk about there being a difficult relationship with her husband.
They were stationed at a base in the Amazon jungle together for a while during the early years.
When they eventually were transferred out to the mainland, my mother and Gayna retained a friendship.
While the women are on active duty, a trusted family member can uplift their monthly paycheck. In Gayna’s case, her husband was the recipient of the money.
When Gayna was home on military leave, there would be no monies for her to use and they ended up losing their home.
At one point the husband was holding her child hostage and would not allow her access to him.
Due to their contentious relationship, she also found herself with no place to stay.
I am unsure about the whereabouts of her biological family. I asked my mother, but she did not know the details of that relationship either, she just remembers Gayna needing help and offering to do so.
She had a brother, but he had a family of his own and perhaps he was unwilling or unable to help care for her.
With nowhere to go, my mother offered her a place to stay
And of course, she became a resident of “The room beneath the stairs.”
Gayna loses it all
Gayna and her husband eventually divorced, and that was tough for her to handle. But when he took possession of their son, she really became unstable.
At times it seemed as if all hell broke loose.
It seemed as if she gave up any connection to sanity and life.
She was finally coerced to the Mental Health Hospital; she received some meager help.
Once she was discharged, her behavior soon became erratic again and finally, she was simply wandering the streets full-time.
In South America, mental health care is really below par.
Poor Gayna would wander into the yard from time to time.
Often, a commotion would alert the adults to her presence as she would be in the front yard, stark naked, taking a bath.
After she was coerced to get dressed and fed, she would eventually get back to wandering the streets.
Even then, I found it to be so sad, as I witnessed the decline. She must have been in her thirties at that time.
Eventually, we lost track of dear Gayna.
Takeaways
As a child, I recall seeing a few folks walking the streets, with smelly luggage but did not grasp the enormity of this situation.
The folks whispered that they were “mad”, but we did not understand. In the absence of understanding and proper health care, many folks have been left out in the cold.
People in my area were always kind and compassionate.
If you needed food, you were fed. My grandma truly embodied kindness and compassion. No one who came to her home was turned away empty-handed.
She was my first and most effective teacher.
Now, I give money to persons seeking help on the street corners before my light turns green. I have been reprimanded not to give because they use it to purchase more drugs, but I continue to do so.
I cannot help but give, I feel compelled. I have no responsibility for what they purchase with the monies I give them, but I always hope they get some food.
I have wondered about Gayna from time to time, hence the reason for writing about her.
I pray she found her peace.
Nevertheless, the room was again vacant — awaiting its next tenant…
If you enjoyed my story, you may go back to where it all began, see parts I & II below —
Pene Hodge is a mom, a nurse, and a writer. She writes because she must. She loves people and is committed to sharing and gleaning knowledge for the betterment of all.
