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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 year of failing to get her housed. A year of acceptance, that I may not be able to help her the way I want to.

Now I have the understanding that not being able to house her is not world-ending. It feels coarse to say so. It goes on and she goes on as I imagine she did when she disappeared for nearly four years. …


Dooley M

Dooley M is the daughter of a funny, loving, smart, schizoaffective, and currently homeless mother.

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