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By July 2010, I had surgery for a malignant tumor and was left with $36,000 in medical bills because my employer could not afford to offer me any insurance.
In April of this year, my employer sold the retail part of his business where I had done the shop management and sales for the past five years. By May, I had sold my car and my grandmother’s turquoise collection and all of the furniture I could. I packed my family’s life and moved into a bedroom in my son’s house with his wife and infant son in Virginia Beach. At the end of July, our son lost his job due to store closure.
 I feel desperate to provide the bare necessities of life for my family even at the expense of my pride, ego and self-esteem. I have to keep my head up because I know I have done everything I could. Because I was told I made a little too much money to qualify for food stamps, I have had to make that decision of not paying a bill or giving up some medication.
Going to the Foodbank was not an easy step to take. Standing in line, you see it grow and stretch out the door, around the building. You see all ages, faces of every social standing, race and education level. I have felt guilty for taking what the Foodbank offers but I was so desperate for any assistance at that point.
All help given comes from the heart of the donors from the big corporations, small businesses and the family that picks up that extra can of tuna and drops it into a donation barrel. The Foodbank cannot feed everyone fresh foods or three meals a day. However, what they do offer to us standing in that line is hope to make it just a few more days and the ability to rebuild strength in our hearts and bodies to be able to move forward with our lives as they are and try to make them a little better.
The only thing any of us can say is a very humble and grateful thank you for seeing us, our desperation and need and for the food to keep us going as we try to recover our lives.
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