Her Mother’s Daughter
Are alone in the world. Have a partner. Have children. Have community around them. Have who families don’t know where they are. Have families who cannot convince them to accept help. Have Anosognosia and cannot see they need help. Have created family on the streets. Are old, young, families, singles. Have mental illness. Have drug … Continue reading These Homeless People…
One of the things I monitor with my mother is her feet. Feet are one of the things that can suffer greatly when someone is homeless, and my mother is no exception. She only wears one pair of shoes and wears them all the time, even sleeping. She sleeps sitting up and that lack of … Continue reading This is Huge
People wish for many things. We wish for things to be other than how they are. We wish that bad things would not happen. We wish for terrible things to be better than they are. When things do not go as wished, it can be hard to explain. Sometimes we think it’s unlucky. Sometimes we … Continue reading If Wishes Were Horses
I picked up two books from mom tonight. I offered to take them to storage. Though she said she would do it herself, she agreed when I told her I wanted her not to have to carry so much. She took them out of her bag, one wet and molding. “I should give you a … Continue reading Two Books
I was talking tonight with a woman who had offered to help with my mom. She had set aside a comp. ticket to hear her music group perform. I didn’t go and wanted to thank her. I had put off calling her since I hadn’t explained anything to her about my mother other than she … Continue reading You Never Really Know
I can’t read the news today. Four dead from the cold in Portland since the beginning of the year. My friends, full of compassion and righteous anger, make feelings known. I am grateful for them, yet it guts me quietly. I wish I didn’t have to know. Here, it is raining torrentially for days. I … Continue reading The News
It’s happening. She’s meeting with the psychiatric liaison at the police department, someone who could help change her life. After trying to get her help and mostly failing, it is the best thing that’s happened all year. Still she’s on the street. It is more awful than I can imagine for her and I’m getting … Continue reading Getting Used to This
I have a story inside me and I’m afraid it’s so big it could blot out the sun. It rocks in the ocean of my belly and the waves come out in tears. My face knows this place where I have never smiled, still as stone. I have a story that rings from under glass. … Continue reading I have a story
I’ll give you a hint: she’s now 79 and still on the streets.
I keep telling myself this, knowing it’s true, knowing I don’t quite believe it yet. Bargaining, they call it. I keep trying to figure out how to get her well again or at least safe. Right now, it is all awful. We are past the point where she will take shelter voluntarily. If I try … Continue reading Some Things Cannot Be Fixed