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So I have this childhood friend who unfortunately fell into a bottle many years ago and has only sporadically been able to climb out. He reappeared the other day, if only telephonically. I hadn't heard from him at all for ages, and was just on the verge of scanning obituaries for him to be quite frank. For some reason, he is in far southern SC, almost all the way to Savannah. He called my dad and left a message and my dad called me and passed it on. I called and he asked if I could come and take him to visit his mom. (She lives in a nursing home here in Columbia.) I said sure and today I drove down to pick him up. He asked me to help him with some stuff and we went upstairs to get-- a suitcase and some garbage bags. Now none of this was in the job description, and I pointed out that he didn't have any money nor anywhere to stay in Columbia. He suggested that either this old friend or that distant cousin would be happy to put him up. I expressed severe doubts, but agreed to take him to see his mother and then we'd play it by ear. (Since I was already planning to bring him back anyway it wasn't any additional sweat to add some unnecessary luggage to the trip. In other words, I had a very realistic notion how likely it was that anybody was going to let him stay with them, ie, not at all.)
We got as far as the car, when the director of the facility (which turns out to be a homeless shelter run by a Christian ministry) came out, thinking he was going to have to argue with me. I said that I had already told my friend that there wasn't anybody he could stay with in Columbia and that I was planning to take him to see his mom then bring him back. The director was worried that if he got to Columbia he'd never come back and would die on the streets. To say that I shared this concern would be a slight understatement. So he had my friend's mother on the phone and let me try to talk to her. Maybe I don't know how to use a walkie-talkie phone or maybe her Alzheimer's has progressed further but I couldn't actually exchange any information with her. Anyway, I was willing to believe the director since his description of the situation was in line with my experience of it. My friend then threw a little fit, which also didn't speak well for his readiness for the wilder world, but in the end he agreed to stay and I left it that if the director calls me and says my friend is ready to go, I'll come back and pick him up.
Sooo, no dang fun at all, but I have no thought at all that I did anything but the right thing.
(I should probably mention before anybody asks that no, he can't stay with me, we already don't have room for us. Also, I've gotten this guy into and out of emergency rooms about a half dozen times and on another occasion into psychiatric treatment by the force of sheer will power. Maybe I'm just out of will power or maybe I'm no longer angling for canonization. Anyway, I don't have to ask my dad to keep an eye on the obituary section for me at least.)
So, the usual request: white light, prayers, positive thoughts, warm wishes or whatever you got that my buddy finally is able to pull himself together and start his life again.
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