I have often wondered what life looks like from the eyes of someone else. My life, my adult life, has sort of been dark and twisty so I see life-like that. For example, this morning I saw Blu the Savage attack and kill a bird. I didn’t feel sad or grossed out or even anything. I had no feeling other than I hope to hell he does not drop that on my porch because I don’t want to clean it up. On my way to work last week, I saw a lady hit a beautiful goose. Just completely squashed it like a bug. Flat. Feathers flying. Guts out. It was awful. I wasn’t fascinated by the goriness or anything. I was appropriately saddened by the loss of a beautiful creature.  Geese are actually very fascinating. Most people do not take enough time to appreciate geese. The domestication of geese took place over 3000 years ago in Egypt although some research suggests even earlier. They have never been exploited for commercial game like chickens or ducks.  And geese have different representations in almost every single culture. Every single eye of the world sees them differently. I find that interesting.

During a strong and violent storm, I stand on the ocean edge watching the vast expanse of water raging with envy and awe. As the water spills up the beach and over walls, I feel excitement and pleasure. I understand the need to throw things, and destroy things, and push limits to make sure people remember that in which you are capable. Others watch the ocean in fear. The water is a threat to their home and livelihood and family. In those moments of the storm those people are the most frightened. They are in the worst times of their life. In those moments of the storm I find peace and acceptance. I look in the eye of the storm and see something I can relate to and something that relates to me. I find that interesting.

During the summer on the hottest and humid days I see warmth because I am always cold. AC hates those days. SC basically likens those days as hell on earth. As soon as I tell her it’s humid she starts sweating.  I think of days that will help my tomatoes turn red and my cantaloupe ripen.  I like those days. I see those as the days I have earned getting through the awful New England winters.  Others see experiencing beautiful New England winters as the reward to surviving those brutally humid summers. It’s all in the eye of the beholder.

So when, suddenly your child who has been missing in California appears in Massachusetts without really any idea on how she got here, there are many ways to see that. Some would be relieved. Glad she isn’t holed up in a trailer with a bunch of thugs doing God knows what with God knows who in God knows where part of the desert.  Some might think how in the bloody hell she managed to travel cross-country without a single dollar in her pocket, without telling anyone, is beyond my comprehension.  The common belief is I must be relieved.  Yup. From everyone else’s eyes. If I were the mother of someone else’s child I would be thinking thank Jesus in heaven that child made it back safely. I would be thinking that mother must be finally getting sleep and be so relieved. From another mother’s eyes I would taking a big sigh and taking a moment to enjoy it. But is that what the actual mother is doing? From the actual mother’s eye’s is that how it is seen?

From the actual mother’s eye it is the same. California. Massachusetts. Arizona. Florida. The states might change but the addiction stays the same.  The mother knew Mr. Fancy Pants Dan didn’t know his asshole from his elbow when he was saying this treatment facility was going to help her. But she didn’t listen to her gut instinct. She put that addict on that plane, and sent her away against the mother’s better judgment.  It really wasn’t all that surprising that the addict ran away, got kicked out, or whatever the story was that led her to a trailer in the desert with Dick and Head. Now she is back. And what has changed? She isn’t clean. She is still a drug addict. With poor decision-making, and lack of judgment.  The mother is not taking for granted that the addict is better off on this side of country but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t sees it for what it is. The mother does not see it with the same eye as the rest of the world. The addict is not welcome home because the last time she was there she stole meds. Her siblings are not happy with her, her family doesn’t know what to say to her, and basically the mother is the only one that is still in contact with her.  The mother has the same feeling about the addict showing up back in Massachusetts as she did about Blu the Savage killing that bird. If  is dumped on her doorstep it is going to be a mess to clean up.  That is a really crappy thing to think. Which the mother also has no feeling about. Or maybe the mother has felt so many things for so long so deeply and painful she just has no more feeling to feel.  I find that interesting.