We Met Two Years After We Started Talking

When Olivia and I met for the first time, it was at the terminal where she had just got off her plane. We embraced and headed to the shuttle to go to our hotel. We ordered a pizza and sat back and enjoyed our evening.

Olivia wanted two things, she wanted to see the Mall of America, and me. The next day, we went to the mall. We had a great time, we explored the stores and walked all over the mall.

On the third day, Olivia wanted to upgrade our phones. We explored the Mall some more and went to a movie. We had a blast for three days, but she had to go home too soon.

We checked out that morning and headed to the Airport, We kissed goodbye and I watched as she boarded the plane. When she was out of sight, I went and sat down stunned.

I felt like a part of me boarded that plane, I felt lost. I grabbed the handle of the overnight bag and walked to the light rail and headed back to the shelter. I rested for a few days, sleeping in and missing breakfast.

The case manager would bring me applications for permanent housing. I would fill out the applications and give them back to him. A case manager at the shelter talked me into trying vocational rehabilitation.

I had been through that when my parents were alive, but against my better judgment, I gave it another try.

For whatever reason, I could never learn a skill or trade, and until I got my first security guard job, I could never stay employed. “Too slow, too dumb to do the job.” It had never worked, so I had no illusions that it would work then.

Olivia had been after me to apply for disability; I had resisted. It offended my sense of responsibility, it felt like giving up. I did the vocational rehab; it was a disaster.

I don’t know if it was the Stroke in Florida, the two years of being homeless, or a combination of things, I couldn’t do the simplest tasks. Olivia was concerned about me doing vocational rehabilitation, and she was right.

“Where we go again.” I thought as I listened to the Evaluator as he explained the tasks I was to perform. It was the first in a series of tasks to see how well I understood directions and how frustrated I would get.

I was counting and sorting, I was filing, I was packing boxes, I was labeling stuff, I was doing all sorts of tasks, and not doing them well. I would come back to the shelter at the end of the day a nervous wreck.

Olivia was concerned, she wanted me to quit, but I wouldn’t have it. I knew that it would help me get Disability. While I was being evaluated at Vocational Rehabilitation. My Psychotherapist suggesting that I undergo Neuropsychological Testing. I readily agreed. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of more tests, but I wanted to see if there was an underlying cause of my inability to function. The testing was scheduled for a whole day at the hospital.

I lasted until noon. I would take some tests, testing my hand-eye coordination. How well I understood instructions,.Then I would be interviewed by a doctor. When the Doctor finished, it was back to more tests.

I was so stressed out by noon. I thought I was going to be admitted to the hospital. It was like Vocational Rehabilitation, only worse. The Doctor terminated the session. I went back to my room at the shelter and called Olivia.

Olivia didn’t like what the testing was doing to me. “Why don’t you quit?” she would ask. I had already thought it through, so I had the answer ready.

“It will help me get Disability,” I told her. “I’m finally convinced that I need to be on it.” I wasn’t happy about it, it went against everything I was raised to believe in, but it was apparent that I wasn’t able to work.

There was a company that helped people file Disability claims. They had an office at the hospital. I went to see them. I filled out the paperwork and included the Neuro-Psychologist’s report.

After that, it was a waiting game. It was spring, going into Summer in Minnesota, so I spent a lot of time outside in the park. I also spent time in my room writing. It was in late August of 2016, just a few months after Olivia came to see me when she called me with an awesome idea.

“Hey babe, how would you like to meet me in Philadelphia for Thanksgiving? We can celebrate your birthday with my sister and brother-in-law.” I smiled at the thought of Seeing Olivia again so soon.

“That’s an awesome idea baby, I’m down,” I said as we talked some more to work out the details. There were things we had to do. I couldn’t just leave the shelter for a week. I had to get permission from my case manager.

Getting my case manager to sign off on the trip was no problem. Olivia had to buy me a suitcase and train tickets, in no time at all it was time to catch a train. The train ride was uncomfortable, but I arrived in Philadelphia tired but in one piece.

I met my future brother-in-law for the first time. He came and picked me up at the station. Olivia’s train didn’t arrive until an hour or two later. My brother and sister-in-law made me feel right at home. I liked them instantly.

It was overwhelming, all the cousins and aunts and uncles were there that Thanksgiving, they would have been there anyway, but they all were curious about me. I felt welcome and right at home with the family.

My birthday is in late November, every few years my birthday falls on Thanksgiving, it didn’t that year, but it was still a good time. I had to go back to Minneapolis the day after my birthday.

Before I left, I had a real Philly cheesesteak sandwich and the best hoagie I ever ate. I ate well that whole week, and I had plenty to drink. It was a great week. When I went back to Minnesota, I was more determined than ever to move to South Carolina and marry Olivia.