I watched Maureen's dad roll her suitcases out of the lobby on a cart. I had seen him off and on when he came to town to visit his daughter on the unit.
I knew he recognized me, even though we had never spoken in all these months. He seemed aloof on his visits, so I never approached him. I’m better with other moms anyway.
"Are you taking Maureen home today?" I asked him, wanting to acknowledge this important day. Her discharge date had been pushed back several times. "You must be thrilled," I continued.
"Yes, she's been smiling all morning," he replied.
"Good luck," I said, as I turned to go.
"Good luck to you, too," he replied as I walked away.
Luck, yes, that’s what we both need. Luck, and a really good behavioral intervention plan.