You never really know

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 is ill. I was afraid to tell her that my mother was mentally ill and I wasn’t giving her 24/7 care.

Over the course of our conversation, I told her my mother has schizoaffective disorder. She told me how there are a number of people in her family with mental illness, including the tragic story of her dear cousin.

Later in the conversation, I told her that my mom had disappeared and again she took the news in stride. My mom is homeless. She understood.

We were on the same exact page and it never occurred to me that it might be so when I picked up the phone. I always liked this woman, but I never would guessed.

The irony is this is something I say a lot, “you never know.” I was riding in a car with friends and there was some joking about people on the street talking to themselves. When I objected, the one who knew my situation apologized immediately. I said, “You never know if someone has a loved one who’s mentally ill and homeless.” I’m so glad I got to be reminded this time.