Dee

Yesterday Mark agreed to strip the wax off the dining room floor and apply new wax. He had to wait for the meal to be over before he and Rory could begin. I planned to walk the few blocks to the library and try to find a book on tape for our trip. Then I would walk the 1.5 miles to the bank to get some cash.
The library trip went fine, but I was really tired when I came home because of the limited sleep due to the fireworks. I decided to take a short nap, then walk to the bank. However, when I awoke it was already 4 pm. No problem, I thought, I can be there by 4:30 and the bank stays open to 5 pm. As I was leaving the house, I glanced toward the Inn. I saw Hector, a guest who stays at the corner all the time, with a woman. He was pointing at me. I figured the woman needed help, and no one would answer the door at the Inn since it was only Mark and Rory inside.
I walked over and realized I knew the woman. It was Dee, a 74 year old woman I had met last fall. She had been homeless, but had managed to get into very nice senior housing. At one point she had been "302'd": put into a mental hospital because she was considered a danger to herself or others. She had returned to her apartment after two weeks in the hospital. I had not seen her since February. She told me she had lost her housing and was on the street. She was trembling. I asked when she had last eaten and she said two days ago. She had her cane and the clothes on her back. She had slept the previous night at the subway station. In the past she had a rolling cart that contained her possessions, but she appeared to have lost it or had it stolen from her.
I got her some food from the Inn and some juice to drink. I moved her to the steps of our place since it was shady. After more discussion, I realized she needed a coat since the evening temperatures are still in the forties. I told her I had to go on an errand but would be back in an hour.
During my walk I considered what I could do for Dee. It seemed she had lost touch with reality. I knew she was estranged from a sister who lived in her building. I also knew she had a daughter and grandchildren who had wanted her to come live with them when she was homeless before, but she wanted nothing to do with them. I could not force her to return home or contact her family. I could give her some basic comforts and try to get her to return to the Inn for meals.
Upon my return, I found a nice cloth bag and put together some useful items: clean socks, a throw blanket, a towel, toothbrush, toothpaste and soap. I gave her some peanut butter and plastic knives, plus yogurt and spoons. She had already given away the bread I had given her earlier, although she claimed someone had taken it from her. I reminded her the meal was at 11:30 tomorrow. She slowly walked off toward the SEPTA station. I felt guilty I had not done more for her, but she is one of those cases that falls through the system. I know she gets social security checks, but where the money went is anyone's guess. It did occur to me that if I hadn't taken the nap, I would not have been coming out of my house at that time and no one would have been on the street to help her. So some good did come from the fireworks throwing after all.