About four blocks one way and three blocks another

Sometimes it's a good idea to go where you've been to get a good idea of where you are now.

Today also seemed like a great day to take a walk to the City Mission to have lunch. It's not like this was something that had to be done to prevent starvation, but there was a time when that's exactly why I ate there.

Well at least 4 out of seven days in a week.

While some things there have changed many things remained the same. Yes, there were new faces. Sadly there were also more children there to eat as well. Some of the regulars I knew were still standing in line or waiting for the bell to ring for seconds.

Considering it's the beginning of the month, the dining room is surprisingly full.

There were still the mentally ill sitting at the tables. Talking to themselves or talking to anyone within earshot. Perhaps even talking to some invisible friend, who I hoped was giving counsel for calm. One fellow was laughing for no reason apparent to me while more than one was just staring into...space?

I do have to confess to laughing at some private joke or memory. I have also been guilty of staring blankly while recalling something from my past or trying to see into the future.

It comes with the territory, I guess.

As always, there were some folks there I remember by name. C always stops by to say "Hi! Aren't God's blessings great?" I tell C yes, they are and ask how he's been getting along. P was also there and it can't be said I was happy to see him. I haven't seen him since well before Don died. He looked well enough for the wear and had a smile on his face.

The smile was the scary part.

G hollers, "Hey! Long time no see! How's everything going for you?" I tell him things are OK and that I wish I lived in a nice place like his. G lives in the housing units across the street. He has a balcony on the 7th floor which looks out towards the lake.

Besides the fact that his rent is less than mine, I'm a little jealous of that little feature. Perhaps in the great scheme of it all, he may well be more deserving.

The busker, who I passed on the way to the Mission also was there for some lunch. I'm sure the spare change he collects from his strumming is for a much HIGHER purpose than merely food.

Going to the mission for lunch is a necessity for me though. It isn't so much to make me feel good about where I am. It isn't so much about letting me know what's been accumulated in material things. It isn't about trying to make myself feel superior to people who spend their nights more outside than indoors.

It's to remind myself how fucking close I am to having be there again.