Getting your Trinity Audio player ready...

Live United by Erin Haag

This week was messy. It was hard, exhausting, emotional and chaotic. Amongst the grime and nitty gritty of getting through the week, there was beauty in the mess. Personally, I required several cups of hot chocolate throughout the week. After the emotional whiplash of this week, I thought I’d be writing this article with a sense of relief as it was over. Don’t get me wrong, I’m fully looking forward to sleeping in a little bit, but this week was achingly beautiful in the realest of real moments. Life doesn’t get more real than a cancer diagnosis for someone. Or a massive stroke for someone not yet 60. Life doesn’t get more real than someone sitting in my office, describing the particulars of how he would commit suicide.

Those are all ugly things. Cancer is ugly. Strokes are ugly. Suicide is ugly. That’s the wonder of our world though — even with ugly things there is beauty in the mess. Two volunteers came to help with the truck. One told me, “we need some Christmas music!” I grabbed my little speaker and we jammed out as we put away milk and strawberries and frozen fish.

J. is our volunteer with a new cancer diagnosis. This isn’t the first time we’ve had a cancer diagnosis within our volunteer group, but it’s a gut punch every time. R. is our volunteer that experienced a stroke, shocking us all. R. doesn’t drive, so J. usually picks him up and they volunteer together. R. was ready to come back to help at the pantry this week. He and J. signed up, but then J. got the cancer diagnosis and the scheduled appointments and testing that goes with it. Wednesday evening, it was all decided. I alerted the other volunteers that R. wanted to come back, but he needed a ride. There’s beauty in the mess — because of course the other volunteers were going to not only make sure that R. got where he wanted to go, but they kept watch over him, ready to support him if he needed it. Amazingly, he was doing great, just two short weeks after his stroke. Witnessing those volunteers rally around him though? Beauty in the mess. J. finished up his testing and drove back into town, coming straight to us. He asked if he could work so he could keep his mind off things. Of course. This man whose head and heart must still be reeling from all that he’d learned and gone through that day decided to spend his evening lifting boxes of groceries out of shopping carts. I watched as volunteers checked in with him, learning about his treatment plan and sharing their own experiences. Beauty in the mess.

There was beauty in my conversation with my gentleman considering suicide. We laughed, I cried a little bit as he smiled at me, just a little misty eyed himself. He told me he thought about it, but then decided to get a television so he wouldn’t be so lonely in the quiet house. He told stories about his Army days, told stories about his beloved wife of 38 years. Ten years after her passing, he mourns the best friend that was his concert sidekick. She’d go with him every single time to the rock ‘n’ roll concerts he loved. With a eye roll and a sigh he said, “and then I’d go with her to her … (a little sneer here) Reba and Garth Brooks.” We talked, and I found solace in the fact that he wasn’t talking about suicide, but his goals to help his mental health. He had some bad moments in the quietness of the Thanksgiving holiday, but he rallied, and he planned. He shared his plans with me, and they’re good ones, focused on improving mental health. He knows where to go to get help, and we have further plans and checking-in.

I walked him to the pantry, where a volunteer was stocking. I introduced the two men, mentioning to our volunteer that my gentleman was a veteran. I knew darn well what would happen. A sharp salute, a firm handshake and “thank you for your service, sir.” I stepped away, as a conversation about the service details. A few more moments of connection, of conversation with someone other than me, while establishing we’re a safe place for him to come. My gentleman knew darn well what I was doing, too. As I helped him zip up his bag of groceries, he muttered as much to me. I just grinned at him and asked him if he was sure he was good to walk home. He shook his head at me and mock scolded me for fussing as I laughed and said, “I know, I know.”

“That’s right, you know, you know, you know me.” He shakes his head at me some more but quietly takes my hand and squeezes it, letting me know that he’s OK and he appreciates the fussing despite his protests. He goes out into the cold but sunny day, and I’m just holding onto faith that I’ll see him soon.

This week, the family stories for our holiday adoption program-Jingle- rolled in. Donors adopted families so fast it made my head spin. We are anticipating at least five more families by early next week. This year, we have seniors being adopted, my gentleman being one of them. He protested that he doesn’t celebrate holidays because it’s too painful without his wife. We concluded that this was a non-holiday adoption, and it was a “Beat the Winter Blues’ adoption. He loved this idea, but still expressed surprise that someone would want to adopt a senior, and that they might be willing to buy him some winter socks or his favorite ambrosia salad. There’s beauty in this mess.

This week, a member of the Lakeview Lions stopped in with a donation. I stayed up late shopping online, buying winter gear for children in our schools. A foster mom reached out for resources.

The foster parents came in, bringing baby along. Volunteers watched over the baby sleeping in her car seat while her caregivers shopped. “How old is she?” they asked. Mom answered, “1 month.” Dad smiled and corrected her, “1 month and 1 day.” Baby cried, and her foster dad got her out of her car seat, and said hello to her as she opened her eyes and looked at the bright lights on the ceiling.

If you’d like to join our beautiful mess, there are so many ways you can do so. Volunteering, adopting families through Jingle, dropping off coats at any of our drop boxes around town. Monetary donations help support not only your local United Way, but also the area nonprofits with our Community Impact Grants. Our website is unitedwayfc.org and our mailing address is PO Box 686, Albert Lea, MN 56007. As always, you can give us a call at 507-373-8670.

Erin Haag is the executive director of the United Way of Freeborn County.