Well, it is a deep subject my one aunt used to say.. she was a southern women, the kind that you believe will never die..always with a smile on her face. When the surgeon informed her she was full of cancer and there was nothing that they could do, she was looking at six weeks or less, in true southern fashion of old she smiled and said thank you for letting me know. of the six weeks since I had surgery I have been off work for three of them. ten days for the surgery and the rest for medication side effects. This is the firs day in a serious that started last Saturday that started at 2 am with vomiting and other lovely GI things, lost weight.. if you want to look at the bright side.. so now I am unemployed and have to be out by the 15th of the month a coming to make room for the new tenants. The man who exposed me to this virus, his driving passion was land, houses.. he wanted to have a house where the land was his and no one or nothing could touch him. part of that I understand but, now that I am unemployed, still recovering, and on the verge of being homeless I am reminded of my aunt. Women have long over come and suffered through only to come out the other side better for the experience. I started the moving process two months ago, this housing authority speaking with that housing authority, so much paperwork and red tape, there is so much that is not controllable. Coming to the point that if we pack up all our stuff only to put it into storage here or there we could be homeless I guess for a little while. My one daughter says that they give you more money on your financial aid if you are homeless. Yes it is not just me but three daughters and two sons and a grand-child a coming in August. I have done the paper work and have waiting in the lines and have asked questions. I have done what is required of me here there and everywhere. The question is what next. Can we literately fall through the cracks of all the systems set up to protect folks like us? Why yes we can is the apparent answer. Funny that man, sold that house he build with everyone else money and ran.. ran back far away to his home country where this country cannot touch him, leaving behind not just me but six others infected, two children and massive amounts of sorrow. But he is sitting in his house right now, sleeping with another who does not know of his status, and how many more besides her.. but he is good. Yes he may die sooner then later but what about now.. the people he left behind, not just me, but all of us.. struggling with this virus. Moments from being homeless.. I think of my aunt and how when her husband who she married because she “needed a man” at the time in society, when he died she sold all his land and moved into the ‘city’ she lived happy for the years left to her. She struggled through that marriage and the denied dreams she had as a young person and came out the other end alone, in her own house, tending her flowers until she died. I have learned that HIV makes other people not like you so much any more. People I have meet with HIV don’t want anyone to know that they have the virus. Too much to loose, too much stigma left in the world. At a point where vaccines are making the news, there is no understanding still. My family does not embrace me. Sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, whatever.. there is nothing there. My job could no longer put up with my “repetitive illnesses” so under the bus I went. As Billy Joel says “I have people back on land who count on me” Maybe we will all like being homeless.