My mother has disappeared again, the fourth time.

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, jails, and morgues. Part of me thinks it shouldn’t be that easy, that it should gut me every time. Part of me is so grateful to be better at doing what I need to do.

Though searching for her is easier, my mother disappearing is still an overbearing concern. I have received medical bills from the emergency room indicating that there is an issue with her knee requiring a long leg splint to immobilize it. There’s no indication that she had been admitted and HIPAA laws prevent the hospital from revealing any information.

The manager of social services there was very kind and she agreed to take my name and number and do whatever she can to connect me with my mother. It must be very frustrating to want to do more to help and have no other option.

So I trust that she and I will be reconnected in time and hope that those in a position to help her, will.


Originally published at Dooley M.