October 29, 2022
It’s been a week since Azra and I left a situation that bore a striking resemblance to my life a year ago in Tennessee with my ex-husband that pushed me far to close to the insanity and had me seeking suicide for solace.
I decided to move into Motel 6.
The first few days were mentally rough on me. I seriously questioned whether I made the ‘right’ decision to leave a house where rent was $700/month for a motel room for $550/week (the same amount as my weekly wages). Once I understood my matrix and finally put my emotional and mental health at the forefront of everything, I realized that choosing the motel was the best thing I could do.
So, I took another shot and, today, God showed me just how right my decision was.
****
I woke up early, went to the office and paid for today. I decided to go across the street for some coffee. Once back in my room, I set my intention to get some writing done.
Azra awoke a few hours later and we chit-chatted as we each did our favorite things: me writing; him doing his movie edits and playing video games.
Around 11:30, I stopped working on a story and asked what he wanted to eat for lunch.
“A burger”, he responded sounding like a broken record that has been on repeat for four years.
“Azra, you just had a burger yesterday,” I replied trying not to be too stern so I didn’t mess up our morning’s easy vibe. “How about tacos?”
I looked over my shoulder at him just as he looked up from his phone.
“I just had tacos yesterday, too”, he said matter of factly, obviously not caring about our vibe or anything else except that I was interfering with his editing.
I slowly turned back around, restarted my music, and resumed my writing. I settled it in my mind that when it was time to discuss our meal, he would let me know.
About ten minutes later, he got up to show me his edit.
“If you want tacos mommy, we can have tacos. But I really want a burger,” the tone of his voice made me laugh.
I had to play this out.
“Great! Get dressed. We don’t have to have Taco Bell tacos. We can walk over to Jack in the Box…”
“Wait a minute!” he blurted. “Doesn’t Jack in the Box have burgers?”
I had completely forgotten that they did. I Googled it and a big, fantastically juicy looking burger popped up.
“That’s exactly what I want,” he emphatically confirmed.
I knew I was going to start trouble with this but I had to go for it. “Ok. Get dressed and walk across the street with…”
“WALK! Awww c’mon mom are you being serious right now!”
And so it began.
The only thing he and I have gotten into it about this week was him going out with me. It hasn’t been anything major, just me being mom and wanting him to go out with me to buy stuff for him. We did our little back and forth thing until he said:
“Just Uber us some food. That way you don’t have to go out! You can stay here and finish your writing!”
My mouth dropped open as he grinned at me like a Cheshire cat. All of my defenses disappeared as his eyes glistened trying to hold himself together.
We both broke out in a hearty laugh.
We settled on him Ubering McDonald’s and me going across the street to Taco Bell for a chicken salad.
I continued writing as I waited for his food to come. About fifteen minutes into the 20 minute wait, I started getting anxious. I felt like I needed to get my food asap. I jumped up and got dressed quickly. Azra asked what was wrong. I told him I didn’t know but I needed to get to Taco Bell. Just as I finished telling him that the phone rang. It was the front desk telling me his food had arrived. I ran down the three flight of stairs, got the food and was back up the stairs before Azra knew it.
****
As I ‘speed walked’ toward Taco Bell- about a four minute walk- I noticed a remarkable feeling of excitement within me. I just thought it was the ‘feel good’ of being out in the sunlight, looking at the beautiful blue sky with a gentle breeze walking with me. As I walked up the driveway towards the entrance I noticed a man, a woman (I presumed was his wife), and young girl. The tailgate of their truck was down and they were enjoying their food. As I walked passed, I had an overwhelming feeling that I knew that man. He felt familiar to me. I turned my head to look at him quickly. His movements reminded me of someone but I didn’t know who. I felt a warmth in my solar plexus.
I walked into Taco Bell and ordered my food. As I waited, my eyes were drawn back to the man. He turned sideways and his profile shocked me.
“He looks like…” floated through my head but I couldn’t remember the name.
That warming sensation got warmer and it felt like my mind was opening up quickly but in slow motion. As the man gathered their trash on the tailgate, my order was called. I got my bag and turned towards the door as he walk inside to dump his trash. I knew him but I couldn’t get his name. He turned to the trash can. I walked up behind him and stopped. When he turned around we were face to face.
“Excuse me, did you use to work at Air Force Village West?” I asked.
“Yes. Yes I did. Why do you ask?” the sound of his voice opened my mind fully.
I stared right into his eyes, remember his name and said, “Bob, it’s me- Asha.”
The look on his face brought tears to my eyes.
“OH MY GOD!! ASHA!!!” he screamed as he pulled me into his arms and hugged me with all his strength.
We stood there hugging each other laughing and crying.
He let me go and stared at me. We were both speechless for a few seconds.
“C’mon I want you to meet my wife and granddaughter.”
“Nora,” he yelled with the excitement of a child. “This is Asha. Remember? I use to talk about her all the time. This is her!”
His wife’s mouth dropped and she gave me a hug and gushed, “Oh my goodness. I am so glad to finally meet you!”
When she let me go, Bob was standing next to me wiping tears from his eyes.
“Asha, I am so sorry for what they did to you. Honey, I tried my hardest to fight for you, to not let them do that to you. But it was out of my hands sweetheart. I’m so sorry!”
I broke down and cried.
****
On March 17, 2013, I was hired as Resident Assistant/Caregiver at Air Force Village West in Riverside, Ca. Azra and I had been living in a transitional living program for homeless women with children for 3 years. This was an amazingly pivotal point in my life. I was literally ushered into this program two and half months after my eldest son was killed which was two and half weeks after Azra was born.
****
I will never forget the morning my daughter and I sat in a park a week after Azra was born- homeless. I sat on the park bench, nursing Azra, and trying keep memories of the times me and my older children spent there. That was our park- our sanctuary in the hell we were living in. I was especially trying not to think of the hard but loving conversations I had with my eldest son before he died. At sixteen years old, he had spoken great words of wisdom and encouragement into me at that park.
Now I was sitting there trying to still figure out how to continue on without him and get us off the streets.
My daughter called a friend who came to our rescue and took us to her house. Once I showered and got some rest, I sat still and waited for God to say something. I was led to call a friend, who called his aunt- who did not know me but felt led to come see me. She was at work but said she’d come immediately after she clocked out.
Within a few hours, she showed up and offered to buy me diapers and baby wipes. During the ride to the store,she said that she had heard of my son’s murder and had wanted to help but didn’t know what to do. Stopped at a red light she exclaimed that could not believe she was sitting next to the woman she had prayed night and day for...
“I can’t let you go through this. When my nephew called, I knew I had to come see you. God has joined us and I have to do my part!”
In the parking lot of the grocery store, she called a friend of hers at Catholic Charities who told her to call Lutheran Social Services. She handed her phone to me. Ms. Mary listened intently to me as I explained my situation.
Ms. Mary was from the south and her voice was heavy with southern comfort:
“Baby, you listen to me. Pack up your stuff. I want you, your baby, and your daughter to get over here as soon as you can . C’mon… You need to come now!”
We did and, without having to go through the normal intake process and lengthy paperwork, I was given the key to apartment number 2 and told:
“You’re safe now, Ms. Asha. Get some rest… it’s time for you to heal.”
****
This was a 90 day to 1 year transitional program. My daughter stayed with us for two months. Once she was satisfied that I was going to be okay, she returned to San Bernardino.
Azra and I ended up staying for 3 years.
Things were not coming together for me like they did for the other mothers. My case manager continually reminding me that I needed a whole lot more healing than the other women and that “God knew what He was doing”. The staff stood for me many times when the programs directors wanted to move me out.
They ended up making me onsite manager to keep me there until ‘my breakthrough’.
****
On March 14, 2013, my case manager gave me information about a job opening for a resident assistant at Air Force Village West (a retirement community for military and government employees). I submitted the application that day and got a call for an interview the next day. I was hired immediately and started working on March 17.
Two months after being hired, the outreach community liaison for the program gave me her car. She called one morning right after I finished praying for a car because I was having trouble using public transportation for work.
“Good morning, Ms. Asha! God just told me to give you my car. I’m moving to Sacramento next week and don’t need the car….”
Four months after that I got an apartment in a complex that had just been built. Before I started working, I would take Azra to the park every morning. This apartment complex was on the way to the park. I would tell Azra that one day we’d have our own apartment while thinking how nice it would be to move into one of those apartments.
All of the women in the program had submitted rental applications. I was the only one who was accepted!
For three years, God had been telling me not to worry about where I would be moving to after the program.
“I am preparing a new place for you. Your own space… a space where no one has been.”
Sure enough, during the second week of August, me, Azra (now three years old) and my two older sons moved into a brand new apartment. We were the first people to step foot into it since its completion!
****
In 2015, I got injured at work. A severe thoracic strain worked it’s way down my back, herniated a disc in my sacral spine, and impacted my sciatic nerve. I saw two specialist and a few other doctors. None of them could explain how such a thing could happen. I had to do weeks of physical therapy, three rounds of cortisone, and acupuncture. The pain in my lower back was excruciating and refused to leave. My prognosis was grim. Because of the location of the herniation, surgery would do more damage than good. The inflammation was not responding to the cortisone shots and further shots would cause negative side effects. One specialist looked straight into my eyes and said, “You need to find a different career path.”
Workman’s Comp put me on modified duty. However, there was no modified duty I could perform in my unit so I was moved to the maintenance department as an office assistant. Bob was the head supervisor. He and his assistant Kayla fell in love with me immediately. We formed an amazing bond. Kayla was going through serious family issues. I was too plus ‘recovering’ from the injury and trying to figure out what was going to happen to my job because, per the advice of specialist, I should not return to being a caregiver. My injury was so severe that trying to care for a resistant would put us both in jeopardy.
Kayla and I spent many mornings in either my office or her’s crying and consoling each other. Bob was our father- figure. The maintenance guys quickly became my brothers. They were always watching over me and trying to make sure I wasn’t moving around too much. My left leg would give out randomly so they would call me or come to the office to check on me and see if I needed help with anything especially if Bob and Kayla were not there. They even reinforced the hand rail on the ramp into the office to make sure it was sturdy enough for me. They became the support group I desperately needed.
After two months of being in that department, Bob and Kayla along with the maintenance department director, created a position for me as Kayla's assistant to keep me in the department. I had been acting as an assistant but the position didn’t really exist. Bob and I had many conversations about what would happen to me after I was released from workman's comp. We both feared that I would have to return to my department. Bob refused to let this happen so he was moving quickly to get my position secured with him.
Simultaneously the “Village” was going under new management. Changes were taking place rapidly. People were being fired and job positions were being dissolved daily. Bob and Kayla were pulling all the strings they could and contacting the people with the most leverage to help get my position solidified.
Until the day Bob got the call from HR telling him to sent me back to the Memory Care unit.
****
I was sitting at my desk finishing up a call with a resident and creating a maintenance report.
“Asha,” Bob said softly from behind me. I swiveled around just as he closed my door. When he turned around, I saw the tears in his eyes. I immediately knew what he was going to say.
A knot formed in my throat.
“They want me to go back on the floor,” I whispered.
He nodded and came close to me.
“I am so sorry, honey. I tried…”, he began to cry as he helped me stand.
I buried my face in his chest and cried. I held on to Bob as tightly as I could partly because my left leg was getting weak and because that’s what scared little girls do when their lives are being torn apart and they have a father who cares.
Kayla knocked on the door. Bob held me with one arm as he opened the door with the other one. She saw us and knew immediately what had happened. She burst into tears. Bob pulled her into his embrace and held us as we cried together.
The aftermath was terrible.
I was being forced to go back on the floor immediately or be terminated. It was the end of the day. I was told to report to the head of the unit the next morning. I explained that I was still in pain- awaiting another series of cortisone injection. I made it clear that my leg gave out randomly and that being there would only jeopardize the residents. I was told to either be on the floor in the morning ready to work or be in HR to sign my termination paperwork.
I was devastated but felt that everything would be okay. I thought I would just be able return to the maintenance department.
When I showed up the next morning, I found out that the person who was helping Bob and Kayla create my position had been “released” by the new management and with him went my position.
The most insane part of the ordeal was that everyone in the HR department claimed they knew nothing about the position!
That was a solemn day in the maintenance department. A couple of the guys, the two who considered themselves my biggest brothers and protectors, talked about quitting as they brought boxes to help pack my belongings. Kayla and I couldn’t stop crying.
Bob held me. He kept apologizing saying he fought as hard as he could. He said he had actually started asking for me to be transferred to his department the week I was moved there. There was nothing that could be done because it was a workman’s comp issue. If I would have gone back on the floor and waited for workman’s comp to close my case I may have eventually been transferred if the new management agreed to it. That would have been a long shot. Since I was fired, I was banned from working in other departments- even from being on the grounds!
I thought I’d thought I would never see Bob again.
****
Now roughly eight years later, he was standing in front of me with tears in his eyes again… still apologizing!
****
Bob handed me a Taco Bell napkin to wipe my tears. He asked what I was doing there. I told him that Azra and I were living at the Motel 6 across the street. He had a horrifying look on his face which quickly turned into elation as I explained that we were there by choice.
“My life spiraled terribly after I left the village, Bob. I lost my apartment and have been fighting poverty and homelessness every since. But I’m finally on my feet and am creating a new foundation for me and my son.”
“Hallelujah!” Bob screamed and threw his arms around me. “I am so proud of you, Asha. Take my number. I’m going to need some in home care for my mother- in- law soon. I wouldn’t want any one but you to help her. I’ll even put a trailer on the back of our property if I have to for you and Azra to live in. Sweetheart, I couldn’t do anything back then but I have got you now. God is my witness, I promise I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU!”
****
As I walked away from Bob, I had no idea how his proposition would work out because he lives forty miles away from me. What I did know was that seeing him seven days after throwing caution to the wind by trusting my intuition and making Motel 6 our new home was a sign that I made the right decision and that things could only get better.
©2022, Asha Carraway
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