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THE WIND PHONE
Spreading Joy Amongst Those Who Need it Most, Including Me
In memory of my son, I took to the streets
December 15th would have been my son’s 33rd birthday. He died in 2023 of a drug overdose. Alone in a tent. I saw him about a month before. We hugged, I told him I loved him and to stay safe. His body was thin, his eyes glittery and his movements quick. I knew he was using but there was a glimmer of hope. Breathing means there is still life.
Until that stopped too.
This was the second birthday he would not be with us for. And it seemed harder. That day I set out with a wallet full of $5 and $10 bills intending to give them away. I drove into town with no real location in mind.
Outside a store, a man sat on his backpack. He was not begging, just waiting. For what I don’t know. I walked over and held out a bill. I met his eyes and said he looked like he could use it. He said thank you with surprise in his voice. I was reminded of the loneliness my son said came to those who are homeless, and I was grateful to be able to reach out a hand.
The year my son died, I organized gifts for the safe injection site in my community at Christmas time. They gave me a list of items that would be appreciated and I filled it. Friends donated…
