Mom collected strays

My mom collected strays. People, not animals. We heard unending stories of people we’d never meet and had little interest in. She befriended the grocery store worker, the “girl” that did her hair, or the police officer who ticketed her last week. We learned to avoid being surprised at who she brought home. The kicker was at my dad’s fiftieth birthday party. I asked him about a couple by the food. “Some people your mom met who said they were lonely, so she invited them.” She had a singular life purpose, to rescue others from the loneliness that haunted her days.