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by laudablepuss 01/29/2021, 12:22am PST |
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It's likely that nobody you have ever met who wasn't an actual little person was as short as Mandy. The tiny asian girl at my doctor's office? 4'11". Mandy was 4'9 3/4". And she had an absurdly tiny waist -- she had to customize her clothes or use safety pins to shorten her pants and tighten the waist. It was likely due to the fact that she was born with cancer and, as a baby, had chemo and radiation therapy. We thought that caused her to be so short, and also stunted her kidneys (they were small and less effective than other people's) and gave her type I diabetes. Obviously, it's hard to know for sure. But she had a very characteristic stature and every time I saw her I'd smile.
Another reason she always customized her clothes: she always got them from the thrift store. Until we met, she'd never had a brand new winter coat. Thinking back now, I should have gotten her more clothing items, probably. I did get her some things, particularly a yellow shirt that looked so great on her with her blue eyes. But pants I stayed away from because I felt like I'd just get something we'd have to return.
She worked hard her whole life to escape poverty and make something of herself. She was a McDonald's store manager at 18 -- a mall store, so a bit smaller location type, but still. She had a tremendous work ethic, and at the job she had when we met, she handled 3 times as many calls and customers as the next person in her department. (Yet her boss mysteriously disliked her and made her life hellish.) She took a class to become a certified nursing assistant and got the certification. She ended up not ever using it professionally, but it was great to see her helping the nurses and taking care of me when I was in the hospital several times during the year that we met. Later that year she started to have more health issues, and I encouraged her to quit her awful job and live with me. Times were hard for awhile, but I gradually got raises and we managed to keep things together. I never pressured her to get back to work, but I was a little disappointed that she didn't get disability. I said, you can't work even though you want to. That's the definition of disability. But she was very reluctant to go that route.
Her Momma had . . . severe mental issues. At an early age, like 12 say, her Momma was no longer allowed to have custody of her. And her Daddy had, and to some extent still has, substance abuse issues. So around then (she told me starting around 8 or 9) she was cooking for the family -- her Daddy and her two younger brothers -- and doing the laundry, etc. She didn't have a great childhood, so I felt like she could at least have a good adulthood with me. I liked to tell her, about this or other terrible things in her past, "well, you'll never have to worry about that bullshit ever again."
Anyway, despite all that, she was very funny and silly (like I've mentioned) and loved what you might call "borderline appropriate work humor." :) She made friends easily, but she didn't really keep them very well, I think because of her depression. Sort of an extrovert in bursts, then very introverted -- very much like myself. I wonder if I'm characterizing her right there. One of the most difficult things is that she's not here to correct my recollection or interpretation of events anymore. :( |
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