Her Mother’s Daughter
Here we are, approaching the end of the year. It’s been nearly three years since my mother has reappeared. I’m no longer in full flaming freak-out. I’m no longer in the deepest despair of her situation. There is a low murmuring grief that we are here, another year of my mother on the street. Another … Continue reading Closing the Year
I was clearing out my old files and found my mom’s medical records from the last time she was hospitalized, the first time she disappeared, that I wrote about before. Then I found my notes from that time. Notes on the state of her apartment, the missing persons report, her extravagant shopping bring me back … Continue reading Time Capsule
I hear him before I see him, with the louder, faster than usual talking. I am sitting in the window seat, knitting a hat, when he sits down next to me. “I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t protect you.” fades back into unintelligibility. I am thinking about my mother now, how much this is like … Continue reading Of Mental Illness and Bus Rides
It’s Thursday morning and I have lots of work to do. I still haven’t read the writings my mother gave to me and I’m meeting her for lunch. I don’t want to read her writing and I know I have to. I’ve already read the happy ones, the mini-memoirs of the happy events of her … Continue reading Don’t Want to
What good can come out of this? This thing I can hardly talk about, but weighs down my every day. Isn’t that the thing? We want to know that whatever difficulties we’re going through, it’s all worth something. I look at these last couple years since my mom reappeared, at all the time and energy … Continue reading An Alchemy of Mental Illness
I got a call from the police at 10:30 p.m. They found my mother in a park and saw the open missing persons report I made from the last time she disappeared. They asked me about my mother’s history. We talked about involuntary commitment, which they said they did not have cause to do. I … Continue reading Mom’s Been Found
I have made the calls, which was easier this time. It was easier because I know what city she’s hanging out in now. It was also easier because I’ve done this before and we were reconnected in time. It’s become part of the process of my life now: mom disappears and I call the hospitals, … Continue reading My mother has disappeared again, the fourth time.
So, I’m at the regular meeting spot on the appointed day and the appointed time and there’s no mom. Two weeks ago I missed our meeting because I threw my back out. As is our agreement if either of us misses a meeting, I came to meet her same place, same time, same day. No … Continue reading Again
Homeless people are as diverse as other people we group together. I have heard friends and acquaintances talk about “these homeless people” followed by some overall judgement about how they’re all on drugs or they all break into people’s homes and cars. It’s easier to oversimplify, pass judgement, and move on. Homelessness is a difficult … Continue reading Let’s Start Here
I remember the moment when she stopped being my mother. I realized that even as a grown adult that I could not count on her for my most basic needs. It was 2003. I had been on vacation and couldn’t reach my mom by phone when I came back. When my boyfriend and I went … Continue reading When She Stopped Being My Mother