Got to see my son today, the one who was hit by the SUV. Thank God he’s recovering nicely. Thank God he’s recovering at all. I can’t bear to think of what could have been.
While I was there, my daughter came in. She cracked some jokes as if nothing had happened, and I cracked some jokes as if nothing had happened. And then I straight up told her a lie. I did. I told her I’m couch-surfing with friends. She has no idea I’m living in my car.
I’ve always been so careful not to lie to my children. Yes I’ve broken promises I didn’t intend to break – but I’ve always been so careful not to straight up lie to them. My husband and I didn’t even teach them that there was a real Santa Claus/Easter Bunny/Tooth Fairy. Because we wanted them to know we would always tell them the truth to the best of our ability.
So this thing today was a real low point.
Then I went to the shelter for dinner, and there I discovered that, despite recent appearances, I still do have a heart.
At the table behind me, a mother and her little girl were saying grace – and I heard the little pray, “God bless Daddy – but please don’t ever let him come home again.”
That did it. I ran into the bathroom and bawled my eyes out.
After the tears stopped, I was hugely relieved. I felt like myself again. I even felt like, if I had it to do over again, I would have told my daughter the truth about my continued homelessness. Even if she didn’t like it. Even if she got mad at me.
I do get it that if I lost all human emotion, I might be able to better survive (at least physically) this experience of being homeless. But I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to turn into a monster, even if it would make things easier. I choose to remain human.
Homeless Oregon Writer 