Yesterday I watched one of the most painful and tragic documentary on PBS called “God knows where I am.” It’s about a woman with schizophrenia. I won’t give too much details, but she ends up in a state hospital where she refuses all medications. Unable to keep her there any longer, she is released with nothing but the clothes on her back. She walks out the front door, keeps walking until she ends up in the woods and on the other side is a vacant old farmhouse. She climbs in a window and there she hides for over two months. This was the year 2000. It is in New Hampshire which had experienced one of the worst winters. She lives on nothing but apples from a nearby tree. Picks hundreds of them. Occasionally, she would even eat fresh, fallen snow. She passes the time reading books she found in the attic or sits in a chair watching life go by from a window. There’s a neighbor about 500 feet and a busy highway. Mostly she sleeps. But there was one thing she did daily and that was write in a journal all her thoughts, feelings, activity and the weather forecast. She wrote about memories, about God, about a man who was once in her life.
It snows and snows and snows. She is low on apples. The holidays have come and gone. She contemplates leaving the farmhouse. Either going to the neighbor and using their phone or make the trek through the woods and back to the hospital.
I won’t reveal the decision she made or what happened to her. I hope that you will watch the documentary. There was a line spoken by the narrator: “If apple trees blossomed in January…” The significance of this is painful.