the tragedy of homelessness

the heartbreak when it touches your family

photo by Cathy Gilbert

There’s a homeless man’s stuff on my porch. It’s not just any homeless person, it’s my son.

And I know that whatever I write about this will meet with someone’s disapproval, or even rage. I know there is a lot of emotion surrounding the homeless in our communities. And on both sides of the story.

Let me begin that I write this as a mother. Just a mother.

And that in itself means that I come at this with a perspective that might differ from those whose personal lives remain untouched by the tragedy that is unfolding in our communities.

And by tragedy I mean the deaths and lives impaired due to drug use, the homeless who make spaces for themselves all over our towns and cities. And by tragedy I mean those with mental health issues or developmental challenges whose needs are not met by our systems and our social networks and supports. The people whose eyes you won’t meet as they ask for change, and who rummage in fast food garbage looking for the freshest food waste they can find, or who even die in dumpsters where they have taken refuge to sleep or perhaps find safety.

And tragedy when families and community members are hurt in some way by these estranged members of our towns. Whether by being physically harmed, or robbed or…