This is my first post. Right now I'm sitting in Denny's parking lot waiting for nearly 2 hours waiting for my homeless son to show up. He's been homeless for a number of years 15+, the only time he's not is when he's in jail on some minor infarction. I bought a tent this morning along what a sleeping bag and some food to give to him. While I wait I passbout chicken and fruit and drinks to the other homeless people that I see walk by. My heart is heavy, and the sadness overwhelms my brain and body. I feel awful that I am ashamed and mad that this is how he chose to live his life.... to him everyone else is the blame for the way he turned out. My son had a good life from a loving family and while I know mental illness played a part in the way his life turned out, I'm still angry that he doesn't do anything about it. The only time that he seems to do well is when he's in jail and on medication shortly after he gets out itbstarts all over again. My son is 37 years old, and although I want to be hopeful I don't think the way he is living his life will ever change. I keep telling myself to just leave go home but the mother and me sits and stays hoping you show up.