HopelesslyHomeless--withFAITH!

This is my daily life, as a Hopeless Woman, Mother, Wife, Native American Veteran, who is HOMELESS in Montana. Only FAITH is keeping me going. My story

Hopelessly….

Homeless…… …….“I AM HOMELESS”….

With Faith!!!!!!!


Its been a roller coaster these past couple of months…weeks…days… hours…Shoot! Who am I trying to sugar coat this for? While I sat here choking back the tears, regret, anger, disbelief, frustration disappointment, last but not the least fear. I decided NO, MORE, NEVER EVER, Again, will I go thru this. My girls and my sons deserve better…. I am not no victim and, I am done living under a microscope and in poverty. One thing I learned along time ago, was its just me in the end, I cant fail.

Well lets see here is what is going on right at this moment. I am living in a hotel not a bad hotel or a decent hotel but a safe hotel for me and my little family. I am a Native American Woman Veteran who served her country before 911 and finished my 4 yr tour and then added 1.5 years to my Active Duty belt. I am far from perfect, trust me I have made some dum, idiotic and regretful decisions. But I try to every day to keep my head above water for my little family. I did hav

99e a place I was renting, in my little town which I loved because thats where I wanted my kids to go to school and know who and where they come from. You could get the Country, and Native cultures intertwined in my little town. We had the cowboys, the native cowboys, the horsemen/horsewoman, the rez puppies, the so called native thugs who rep a culture that is not even ours. or the Mexican wannabe native thugs, who will pretend to be part of the cartel but no they are just lost in an identity. That we watch on t.v. , netflix, prime or whichever you have paid for or got the hook up from Aunty, Uncle or ex whom your just friends with aye. Then there is of course the jocks, preps, BIA workers, Tribal Royalties whose families use to be apart of the Tribal Executive office. And we all know them families, are not just mom and pop, it uncle brother sister aunty by marriage who is cool, and you cant forget the girlfriends, boyfriends and whoever else is apart of that pack that goes around. Looking down on people, talking about the what who when and “aye don’t lie”, convcersations. Instead of trying to help or encourage maybe even just a smile to acknowledge a persons presence, no this pack lets it be known they were once in charge and during their time in office, they were better than the whole tribe and no one will ever be equal again to them. despite the fact that they put us in the RED, and all the promises, about this maybe that, never even made it inside the tribal offices. Of course our community is not just Native, that the joy of living on the bordertown to the Reservation line, we get the straight forward, Racist white, the Sports racist, the farmers, the Mormans, the hippies, the druggies, and the white people who love them some culture or had a grandma who was a native cherokee princess somewhere in the blood lines. And yes we even have the white thugs, who want to be native thugs or mexican thugs. In my community I thought we had it all and I was okay with raising my kids in that community. But drips of water decided to change that.

When I moved back to my community during covid, I didnt care where we lived as long as I was closer to my work and community. Covid, tore thru our community, and our state with a vegengence, and without discrimination. So when I was asked to help advice and work with the front line workers to contain or atleast slow down the mortality rate of my county. I jumped in head first and without fear. I didnt realize until after the fact that I not only placed myself in harms way but my children and hubby as well. I could have lost any of them at any moment, but I knew in my heart and soul I needed to be where I was for my people, my community, county, district and state. In my mind no matter what tribe, race color, or choice of group we are in. I am from Montana, and we are stronger, than most, tough around the edges maybe some more rough than tough. But we never back down. I was standing on my land, that was fought for and was given to me thru not only my ancestors but from all Original Montana people.

First let me say this is not a blog to bash my old landlord. And I am not the perfect renter nor am I a carpenter or maintenance person at all. I dont know the name of the tools that I used or aquired they are callled shiny thingys. The place I was renting was far from perfect, and them trailer walls were older than, and were barely holding together. But my kids were safe, and I was 23 miles away, 15 min drive if I go close to the speed limit and 20 when I am just cruising home. The neighborhood didnt scare me, or even make me feel like I was living in poverty. Most were natives some white maybe 1-4 mexicans around but we all knew of each other in some way or form. first the unfinished work on our new home didnt bother me for about 2 maybe 3 months. Then the critters came, cats, mice, spiders and flies. So then we started cleaning, spraying all forms of bug killer, repellent and stickies, traps. that went on for 3 more months until we figured out our floors were not flush to the walls and their was alot of gaps. when I say gaps I mean gaps you could look down and see some eyes some, maybe blue, green, grey even black looking back at you. (Neighbor Hood Felines) in the hallways living room, bedrooms and kitchen. When one of them peeping cats said “HELLO” instead of Meow, thats when me and my hubby decided to let our landlord know. This was the first instance that I really felt like I was not as smart as I thought I was. Mr. Insensensitive(Landlord) brushed off our concern, and took our money gave me a reciept smirking with his inconsiderate sarcastic smile. again i brought up my concern, he said oh they wont come thru the gap is not that bad I never had a complaint before. Feeling like I was unsure of myself thinking well maybe I was just overreacting. I brushed it off and exited the cold timeless dusty building. Getting in the car, my hubby asks what he said, I told him that he brushed me off and maybe I was overacting, but in my stomach the deep down area that lets you know sisomething is not right or unsettling, started to ache.

Now thinking about my current situation and all the events that lead me to becoming hopelessly Homeless, I am scared to death that at a drop of a hat, or spoken lie, or maybe even a comment that was said about you to keep them light off their mistakes, cruelity and slum. Could put your family, of 5 , a Man, Woman and 3 Teenagers out in the cold with no where to go to, no vehicle and not a tear to shed. Tears are the only lonely thing in cold Montana Winters.

I am hopelessly homeless with faith that Jesus will make a way for us. Faith is what I am holding on to.

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