A Sad Boxing Day Gift Exchange
By: Richard Medugno
Tags: PTSD, Veterans, Homelessness, Homeless, Mental Health

A Sad Boxing Day Gift Exchange

Father and son on Boxing Day, 2020. Photo by Richard Medugno

I’m not typically an eavesdropper, but sometimes it’s hard not to overhear a conversation. This was the case when I left a coffee shop and sat down on a bench with a cup of hot chocolate and a blueberry scone this morning.

As I soaked in the late December sun, I sighed and felt thankful. Then I heard two men chatting. It sounded like they were right next to me, even though they were at least 30 feet away. I had found myself in a place with excellent acoustics.

Unfortunately, I had nowhere else to move to and figured I could tune out the men as I consumed my Boxing Day treats — purchased with a Christmas Day gift card from my daughter and son-in-law.

Then my ears perked up when the younger man who seemed to be around 35 years old said, “I’ve been homeless for two years now and I’m ready for a change.”

The older man who seemed to be around 70 years old nodded and said, “I’m sure you are.”

Now, they had my full attention and I had to look at the men again. They were literally behind bars, sitting almost parallel. The younger man was doing most of the talking, but he never seemed to face the older man or make eye contact. He didn’t look “homeless” but he did seem “off.” There was a strange robotic and well-educated quality to the young man's voice while the older man spoke quietly and reservedly.

Son and father in the morning sun

It felt like I was watching a scene from a play. They had some take-out coffee cups between them and the younger man had a small gift that was opened and next to him. After I studied the men for a moment or two, I realized they looked alike and that they were obviously son and father.

“I want to sign up for these programs that help veterans,” said the son. He went on to say he was ready to sign up for them now and take the assistance offered seriously.

The father said he was happy to hear that and that he knew there were programs for veterans with PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder).

“I want you to come to the office with me. I want them to see you and for them to know that I’m going to take it seriously this time,” said the son.

“Okay, but you have to do the things that are expected of you like taking care of yourself,” said the father.

Shoes that smell

“I know. I’m going to. I’m doing better. I’m not wearing socks now because they make my feet sore. And my feet are clean. They don’t smell. It’s my shoes that smell.”

“You have to take showers,” said the father.

“I know. I didn’t because I was depressed. I’m not now. I take showers now. Well, I didn’t today. But I went into the bathroom and I used baby wipes on myself. I’m clean.”

By this time, I had finished my scone and I could take no more of this heartbreaking dialogue. I grabbed my cup of hot cocoa and left the vicinity.

As I walked away, I reminded myself about being grateful. I also thought about how horrible it must be to be homeless and have mental health issues…And how hard it must be to be the parent of a child that is homeless with mental health issues.

This incident was a good reminder that when you look down on a homeless person, you may be looking down on a person who served our country honorably and lost a lot in the process.