Get outta the way. I am coming through.
That’s what the next two years felt like.
It took quite a few months before we were finally situated in our own place.
Like I said before, we relied on the kindness of others for a roof over our heads. To them all, I will forever be grateful.
In the meantime, I started cleaning houses wherever I could, and doing yard work for a law professor in Valpo who found every blade of grass that grew between the pebbles that surrounded her rose bushes particularly annoying.
It was my job to get rid of them.
If just so happens she was the soon-to-be new wife of my now ex-boyfriend’s sister’s boss’s ex-husband. (If you can wrap your head around that).
That’s how I got the job. And she took a liking to me. I did everything from house-sit for her to clean her home and garden.
The Lord does indeed work in mysterious ways. But then again, I always thought everything happens for a reason.
I guess I did a good job because after a week of feeling more like a manicurist than a gardener, we sat down to have a little chat.
After hearing my story, she told me I was “overqualified” for my gardening duties and suggested I apply for law school instead.
“Law what?”
“I’m serious. With your previous grades and your life experience, you’re in a good demographic to secure a full scholarship. All you have to do is write a good LSAT.”
Well that’s just a dandy idea, I thought, wondering if I should hug her for suggesting it or tell her she was out of her frakkin’ mind.
“Just think about.” She said.
There was only one problem. I had missed the deadline for application and would have to wait a year to get in - providing of course, I wrote a stellar LSAT. Which is a bitch of an idea in itself since I could barely think straight enough to get through the day, let alone focus on one of the hardest entrance exams on the planet.
But, what the hell. I had nothin' to lose.
I needed a full scholarship and a student visa to keep Ryan here long enough to get him through high school.
Getting a decent job was almost impossible - I needed a visa for that too. And they were handing those out about as often as Bush said, “terrorist activity is way overrated”. Like NEVER.
As for my Education degree? It was useless - a school would have to sponsor me if I wanted to teach in the U.S. And we all know the education budget is as likely to factor in that $3,000 expense as they are to provide a surf n’ turf menu option in the school cafeteria.
Looks like I’m writing the LSAT.
No pressure.
In the meantime, Ryan was entering his Junior year with the resolve of a kid who bore his own version of unreasonable pressure. There were days he felt the way a kid in kindergarten might feel if you told him to explain Einstein’s theory of Relativity and if he failed to do it, he’d never get recess again for the rest of his life.
But he handled it like a champ, because nobody... and I mean NOBODY, wanted it more badly than Ryan.
After a sophomore year learning what all those damn squiggles and lines meant in his play book (he’d never played football before in his life), Ryan was starting to feel his way around the football field with the confidence of someone who was starting to sense the same potential in himself the way God might see in all of us - with unlimited possibilities and unshakeable confidence.
Sure, he might never have played football before and “hut” to him meant a place people lived in a 3rd world country, but I swear, at the same age most babies were learning to walk, he was mastering the triple jump - that’s how coordinated he was.
It was no coincidence that the first time he was sent into the field during his sophomore year, when he got hold of the ball, he ran for a touchdown. The fact that it was called back was irrelevant because Providence had already cracked the door open just enough to reveal what he was capable of.
The tone was set.
The truth of the matter was things behind the scenes were anything but stable.
Finding a way to stay would require a miraculous sequence of events.
But just as the Universe sets us up with what can only be explained as spiritual tests of character, it also plants helpers along the way to see us through.
I was fortunate to have made a friend a year prior when I was enrolled in the Second City Sketch Comedy writing program in Chicago (before the bottom fell out of my life).
L was a freelance writer. When she got swamped with more work than she wanted, (and knowing the pickle I was in), she started to siphon the odd job my way. I became like a ‘ghost writer’ But then again, even a real writer doesn’t get credit when the gig is grade four Social Studies (although I sure know a lot more about the gold rush in California now).
Eventually I wrote some articles on Martin Luther King for another development house. The pay wasn’t very good, but it garnered enough respect to get me an in-house job offer with the same outfit a few weeks later.
Things were looking up.
Now I could properly support myself and Ryan, and secure a visa to stick around. Maybe even get an apartment.
The daily four hour commute was not my favourite way to spend idle time, but when my car became unreliable, I rode the South Shore into the city and wore a hat I could pull down over my eyes at 5 am. I got on the train early enough to secure a seat by a window where I could lean my head. My morning snooze was down to a science.
We got our own place, I bought a better car... but just when I thought things were stabilizing:
I lost my job the day before Ryan’s first game in his Senior year.
Like I've said before, sometimes s*** just happens.
In the meantime, after a few months of study, I had indeed written the LSAT and done well on it. But had to wait yet another year to get into law school.
I felt positively cursed. My application had been incomplete because the law school never received the transcript from my old college.
I found out later, the transfer had been withheld due to some $135 in unpaid campus parking tickets. Just another oversight of the ex husband who refused to take care of his own carelessness 5 years back when using a car that was registered in my name.
Unfortunately, it cost me a year of waiting for law school. All their scholarship monies had been dispensed while the registrar’s office was patiently waiting for my papers to arrive.
I was too late.
That’s when I started waitressing. I was grateful for whatever shifts I could get, but I have to admit my first paycheck of $37 just didn’t sit well with me. No offense to the owners - they were great - but I came from a place that paid servers the same as anybody else making minimum wage - I should know, I raised my kids on it.
These days, in our neck of the woods, servers are making almost nine bucks an hour plus tips. And my first few weeks of making tips in Indiana weren’t cutting it - even when the wage was $2.15 an hour, and not $2.13 (as another server cheerily reminded me Appleby’s paid their staff). Holy crap.
Yep, things were looking up alright.
But Ryan was flying on the field, and I was having the time of my life as a football mom.
And there is something to be said for believing that the Universe has a destiny for everyone. So I firmly held to the belief that if we were meant to be there, things were going to work out.
God just doesn’t give someone that kind of talent and then take away their opportunity to shine - especially when they acknowledge every opportunity to play as a blessing.
Without fail, Ryan said his Game Day Prayer every Friday night, asking God to protect the entire team from injury and see them through another ‘best effort’ game.
And sure enough, they did.
In the meantime, through circumstances that can only be described as serendipitous, I secured another job - this time with a trucking company. I stayed with them for a year. Long enough to get Ryan through his Senior year of high school.
But in spite of a football season that can only be described as magical, our struggle began spiralling out of control...
NEXT - PART III - Lessons from Indiana and givin’ er one LAST time
