I Understand Tosca


Screen Shot 2016-07-11 at 3.32.04 PMLike I told my cousin last night, I’m frantic.  I’m terribly upset about losing my home, when it is so very simple.  What has hurt me more is the fact that I’ve lived in a community for 18 years, and aside from offers to help me move, no one has offered to help me.  I need someone on my side, and I have no one.  I understand what it feels like to be totally and completely alone and unwanted.  I’ve lived here for 18 years.  I’ve been a good person.  I’ve helped people.  I’m kind and decent.  I seriously try not to hurt people.  I’ve done what it right.  I thought I even had a church home that cared about me and my family.  But, evidently all of that is a joke.  The one thing I’ve learned about churches is that they only want you around when you can give to them.  When you are broke and need help, they turn their back on you.

Tosca is my favorite opera. Long story short, Floria Tosca is a prima donna who must sacrifice her virtue to Scarpia, the baritone, to save her lover, a tenor.  She ends up stabbing Scarpia to death to save a stupid tenor, who is then shot by firing squad.  She thinks it is all  set up.  When he falls dead, she falls to her death.  Those of us who love the opera and baritones constantly wonder why the soprano playing Tosca just doesn’t use her head and dump the tenor and take Scarpia who is almost what we call a Barihunk, up on his offer.

After agreeing to Scarpia’s demands, thinking she has saved her tenor lover, while Scarpia is writing letters of safe passage for Tosca and the tenor, she sings one of the most beautiful arias, ever written for a soprano.  I feel like this is me.

I lived for art, I lived for love,
I never harmed a living soul!
With a discreet hand
I relieved all misfortunes I encountered.

Always with sincere faith
my prayer
rose to the holy tabernacles.
Always with sincere faith
I decorated the altars with flowers.

In this hour of grief,
why, why, Lord,
why do you reward me thus?

I donated jewels to the Madonna’s mantle,
and offered songs to the stars and to heaven,
which thus did shine with more beauty.
In this hour of grief,
why, why, Lord,
ah, why do you reward me thus?

I’ve been a good person.  I try to help others.  I’ve given to people.  I’ve been kind.  Yet, no one where I live gives a damn.  It will take so little to save my home, $7500 and another $2500 to keep the HOA off my back for a year.  I would have had the money 6 weeks ago, except for a quirk.  I could have paid the bill in full.  I will have the money within 6 months.  I have the contracts to prove it.  I can pay back a loan.  I have things to sell.  No one cares enough to help me for 6 months, yet they will help me move.

I guess that puts me in my place, doesn’t it.  Right now I could use a Scarpia in my life, a good baritone who can defeat the pathetic little tenors.  Things like that don’t happen in reality.  So, unless I can come up with a way to get $7500 on my own, I’m losing my home.  The greatest loss, though, to me, is the fact that I have realized no one gives a damn about me.  That hurts.  My home is being stolen from me.  It will take so little to save it, and no one cares enough to help me.  It’s not like I want something for nothing.

I just want someone on my side – and no one is.