This is My Life: I admire my friend and the reality of mental illness here
On one side of us, there is a huge, expansive house with chandeliers and multiple servants and a swimming pool. On the other side of our comfortable home lives my helper and her family in a small, musty wood house with holes in the floors and boards rotting away. I've been listening to my helper a lot, lately. I consider her a friend and her value to me is far more than simple friendship or househelp. She's my mentor, my cultural buffer, my sounding board, my teacher, my advocate in murky relational waters. She's an example to me in her Christian walk, in her tenacity to do what is right despite huge opposition. She has such a different life - one I can't really imagine, no matter how often she describes it to me. How is it that somebody living just on the other side of my fence can have such a drastically different life? It is just one more strange dichotomy that defines my life here. In the past month or so, her family has ...