And the road goes on forever...

Saturday, June 11, 2011

My Niche during the Trying Times

The endless blue skies which so captivate us during a Yuma winter now stretch into a miserable summer. Although heat came late to Yuma this year, it is finally arriving with daily triple digits. The signature moment of transition is when even the nights no longer cool down to make for a refreshing morning. How refreshing is it to wake up to 75 degrees at 5 a.m.? My plants bake; the concrete bakes, we bake. But we have been told it is as nothing as yet; just wait for July and August.

Our days have assumed a normal that is typical with working folks, although Marc’s remodel job is drawing to a close. My service to the seniors is building, week by week, and I cling to the hope that it will get much busier when the snowbirds arrive back in town by November. It is still a pittance of the income we really need but it has brought me great joy to work with these people so I persevere. At the very least between it and the volunteering I still do, it keeps me busy, out and about meeting new people, and helps me from falling back into the glumness that has been our life for the past three-four years.

Recent news on the economy is not real encouraging either. From all indications, the US is on the verge of another trek back into recession and my brain keeps reverberating with a quote from some government official who stated “Nine percent unemployment may be the “new normal” for the next 10-15 years.” That sounds like political hedging to me—the parties getting ready to make their lame excuses, heading into election year, just as always, while we on the bottom tier bare the brunt of all the Wall Street folly. The latest speculation is for a massive stock market crash by summer’s end—if indeed it happens, again wiping out the common man’s futile attempts at building something for retirement income.

I keep telling myself, don’t despair, it’s only the summer doldrums. I have better things to do now; taking care of my seniors, all much more desperate than I. At least it appears to be a recession-proof job. When you’re old and have no one else around and you need help—you need help. They are all so thankful for my presence—it is a joy to work for them. And in turn, I am thankful to each of them; they keep me going. I keep hoping I am building something meaningful. So far it sure feels right. (Google stock photos).