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 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
There is a dear friend of mine I had confided in about my mother after she disappeared the third time. She listened to my freakouts, my sorrows, and patiently supported and encouraged me. When my mother reappeared, she was in my inner circle. As I found my mother was homeless, understood the depths of her … Continue reading On Speaking and Silence
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
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