Dearest Sarah Einstein,
First of all, thank you for being the kind of person who cannot ignore the underbelly of our society, the often forgotten people who stand at street corners begging for a handout because they do not have the capabilities to function in the world the way you and I can.
Thank you, also, for being the kind of person who is brave enough to bring those tough and beautiful experiences onto the page.
Both callings—working with people who have mental illness and writing a book—require enormous amounts of patience, vulnerability and trust in your own intuition. Thank you for letting us witness all of that, and more, in your memoir, Mot.
Your writing does what a good memoir should: it tells the honest truth without necessarily seeking an answer. We, the readers, are invited to walk along beside you and simply experience what is there—physically, emotionally, and intellectually—as you let this man into your life who is sweet and smart, while also being unstable and potential dangerous. We felt secure in your care, even when we were walking on shaky ground riddled with doubt, fear, and insecurities.
I am touched by the relationship you shared with Mot, and I am grateful that you let us into the world that you two shared. When you began this memoir, you signed the contract that is required of all memoirists: to relive your experiences on the page for the benefit of your readers. I know that that could not have been easy for you, and yet, you moved forward with an open heart and a steady hand.
Having experienced the fear and frustration of relating with people I love who suffer from mental illness, I feel rejuvenated by the compassion and perseverance demonstrated in this book. You have done Mot the highest honor. And in his honor, you have inspired me and many of your readers to take a deeper look at the people that society implores us to ignore.