My son won the lottery, kicked me out of the house, and said: “You’re worthless! Go live in a nursing home.” I wandered aimlessly to clear my mind. When I sat down on a bench, a homeless man walked up to me, smiled, and said: “You look just like my late wife…”

After yesterday’s upheaval, I didn’t trust myself to make choices about anything, even breakfast.

When we were alone, sitting across from each other in the faded red booth, the magnitude of what we had to discuss felt overwhelming. Where do you start when you have 15 years of life to catch up on? How do you bridge a gap that was supposed to be permanent?Read Wellness Tips

“Tell me about the worst days,” I said finally. “I need to understand what you went through out there.”

Blaine wrapped his hands around his coffee mug and stared into the dark liquid for a long moment.

“The first winter was the worst, 2010. I’d been on the streets for about 8 months by then, and I thought I knew what I was doing. Thought I’d figured out the system.”

He paused to take a sip of coffee, and I could see him gathering courage to continue.