she grew up on the side of the road
where the church bells ring and
strong love grows
she grew up good
she grew up slow
like american honey

there's a wild wild whisper blowing in the wind
calling out my name like a long lost friend
oh i miss those days as the years go by
oh nothing sweeter than summertime
and american honey

-lady antebellum-

i drove out to forest grove today to see the Old Friend graduate from college. her parents were there, her brother and sister, her husband, her in-laws, her friends. she is the first in her family to graduate from college. it is astounding to me. i am so proud of her, more than i can say, and i cannot imagine how hard she has worked to get here. so congratulations to her, a hundred times over.

the drive to forest grove was gorgeous. the mountains, a northerly view of the coast range, were sprinkled with sitting mist, those wavy lines that snake in and out of the trees gently. the sun peered from behind low dark stormy clouds now and then, gasping and glancing a brilliant sheen. i love spring in oregon. april brings out the best: my favorite is the rain that is cleansing and warm, the kind that rattles the gutters gently and whips the cherry blossoms downward in a hail of pink gossamer. everything seems new on days like this.

this week has been...demoralizing. more apt is that i have let is be demoralizing. i *love* my job. i do. and i am happy there, no matter what those of you who have seen me this week have observed. but this is a week where i have to remind myself that happiness in this job has to come in an underlying shelf of positivity. it is not found in the day to day interactions, there are no children around with that illuminating eraser quality to make even the worst seem a little easier. it is not *always* found in the day to day interactions, i should say. it is a trick of the mind, to remind yourself that you are indeed happy in your work even on days when you are not. this month has been hard on the families and children that inhabit my work world. and in the wake of the recession, when we hope and strive to make things better, it is frustrating to see them struggle. it is both the carrot which pushes us to work harder and be more for them, and the whip that simply beats us down by reminding us that no matter how hard we work, it's never quite enough. it is weeks like this that make me question whether i am indeed cut out for this work.

the HLP reminds me that weeks like this are rare and random; days are more common but even those are farther between. and she reminds me that yes, i am cut out for this. she reminds me that the core training we got provided us with a powerful core to draw from, and a support group that now stretches far and wide.

the SIL reminded me that working in human services is analogous to training for a marathon. sometimes the run is a terrible 2 miler, other times it's a great 9 miler, other times it's a mediocre 14 miler. no matter what the distance or the quality, i am stronger for having run it. i am more in tune with my own footfalls and breathing, more in tune with the world outside, more confident in my own capabilities and strength at the end. so it seems to be with human services. there are days that, quite frankly, are terrible. terrible for little reasons and big ones. there are days that are amazing. amazing because the child was returned to the parent, amazing because i closed a case that took eons and sweat and diplomacy to close. and there are mediocre days, the ones where i walk away knowing that i simply broke even that day---no harm done, no help given. and yet for each of those days i am a better social worker. i can learn on any of those days. i can prioritize, communicate, make breakthroughs, and run in to brick walls, but simply by being there and putting the time in, i am building a stronger foundation for the rest of my professional life. now if only i could remember that without needing to have a tearful conversation with her! i am amazed at her patience with me. one of these days she's going to tell me to find a counselor. i think i'll preempt that advice. i don't see how anyone can work in this world and not need someone to talk to occasionally.

the trick, then, seems to be lifting oneself out of the everyday fight and finding the big picture. can i do that? i don't actually know. i can try though.

in other news...the countdown is ON!! 4 days to the next half marathon. 13.1 miles. it is the most prepared i've been going in to a half and i intend to give it my all. at this point it is all mental prep. my legs and lungs and heart and abs, they're stronger than ever, and i can feel every step of those miles in my calves and shins already. i am both excited and terrified to be running in the Hometown. i love running here because it is primarily anonymous; i don't have to wonder if every car that passes me is an old schoolmate judging my pokey speed or a theater acquaintance wondering what the hell I'M doing running? fat girl running, kids, it ain't for the faint of heart. but i am also excited to cross a finish line with the Parentals and the HLP and other people i know there. i am excited to run on streets that i know endlessly, and run past buildings housing past lives. i am excited to run with the ghosts of who i used to be. and, as a lovely postscript to the whole shenanigans, i then get to (after some r-and-r, and a nice looooong shower), get to go to the 8th (WHAT?! 8?!!) birthday party of Older Girlchild. i cannot believe she is 8. i found a picture of her and Boychild the other day; they are about 2 and 3 1/2, dressed in princess (him) and king (her) costumes. for the longest time, seeing them every day, it was hard to see the differences as they aged. now, seeing them every three months or so, i am surprised--and oh so delighted--to be able to see them growing into wonderful big kids, from the tiny toddlers and little kids they have been for so long. and to get to go to her party, see her extended families and her parents and siblings, is all the more reason to run loud and proud and strong.

so here we go....ready? set? ENDURANCE!!!!

in running. in work. in life.

so you go yours
and i'll go mine
the best that we can hope is time
will find a way to meet us
in between
and i will wave as you pass by
and i expect you'll do the same
but if you don't
i'll see you on the slower side
of time

we'll synchronize our hearts
and in the depths of deepest darkest parts
naught will undermine the steady beat
and when your head's a hundred million miles and years away from here
i dare to hope you'll land upon your feet

-jessica parsons-taylor-

letting go of people is such hard work it seems. harder than it needs to be at times. in my life i have learned to do so, although not gracefully. let go of two of the most amazing grandparents anyone could have. let go of a love going nowhere. let go of people who used to define my world and found others to fill the void. i am struggling right now, with a friend. for sake of privacy, i'll just refer to this person as chris. chris and i have been friends for a while now, not long in grand terms but a decent amount of time, and now, living miles and miles apart, i feel a growing distance between us. i think if it was shared it would be better, but i'm not sure that chris can feel it. i think for chris that the relationship is still as strong as it used to be, and i don't know how to tell this person that things have changed. i've changed. and chris has changed. for better or for worse, i don't recognize the person anymore. it happens that way. and i've learned over the years that the people who are worth holding on to, will come back into your life even if there's been separation or distance. i'm ok with that. i almost like that rhythm, that ebb and flow of people in and out. but there is another element that has bothered me for a while and it is one of the reasons i have disconnected: chris only seems to contact me when s/he needs some kind of support, when things are rough. i love being able to be there for my friends. and i have so many who give back to me tenfold. but if i'm to be a friend to someone, i want to talk to them on the good days too. i want to know when things are good too; i'm not willing to simply be a dumping ground. it's not so much that i want to know chris would be there for me if i needed it--i think s/he would, because at heart chris is an amazing person, kind and loyal and smart, and s/he is so solid for friends. but i don't want to just hear from chris when things are bad in life.

talking with my mom tonight, she reminded me that the job i'm in is taxing emotionally. it's why i love dodgeball and running and softball, it's why i write and why i drive, i have to send that intensity somewhere so that i can leave my work at work when the day ends. and that the nature of my work and life right now is such that to protect my own little heart, i do have to choose how far to extend myself and how much to let chris unload on me. she reminded me that that's ok to do too. not a lot, not always, but once in a while i don't have to go full bore for people who don't always reciprocate. she also told me to stop whining about it and have the conversation, and she's right.

i've been in portland for a year and a week now. it has flown by, absolutely smoked it, and i am so happy here. one of the things i've learned through some interesting experiences and lots of conversations with my wise SIL is that i have to be sure of myself before i can be with someone else. what does this have to do with chris? well, sometimes i know that chris comes to me for a solid ground, someone to remind him/her of who s/he is. but even after a year of hard work and narcissistic soul searching, i am still a little lost myself. and i find that i can't--don't feel capable of--accompanying someone to find themselves when i don't really know who i am yet. i'm approaching it, i know that i am, and i know that i'll never truly pin down that answer; as humans we are far too malleable for that. i need to have this conversation with chris. but how do you tell someone that you can't be--aren't any longer--the person they want you to be? worse, how do you tell someone that you used to love dearly that you need a break? even just a little one?

i probably shouldn't be writing about this. but i am well known for my awkward capability of putting my foot in my mouth. so that's where i am.

in other news...i sat on front desk yesterday and got to play peek a boo with a little guy, about 2, and it made me so happy to know that i could still connect with the kids i don't know. i miss those kids. i miss the relief nursery, the hands on work we did there, the intense passion that encompassed that place, and i know that one day i'll go back. for now though, i remember that i had some amazing conversations with parents this week, people who are working hard to rebuild their lives for their kids, and who were so thrilled that i would be looking into their native heritage. it seems that in my line of work, every victory no matter how seemingly small is absolutely gigantic. i have been re-taught the value of a little humor, treating the person on the other end of the line with respect no matter what, working with them instead of against them. i do love this work, so incredibly much.

eugene half marathon in two weeks!! i did an awesome 6 miler yesterday, this weekend i get to run the first 8-9 of the half marathon course down in eugene, which i'm excited for. somewhere along the line 13 miles just became a reality, not something i want to do but something i can do. what is that all about?!

i hope you all sleep as well as i'm going to. i hope you are all as happy as i get to be. shine on little bright stars--we'll all find our right to be eventually.

when i am lost, look for me in the land
when i am hungry, look for me in the streams and rivers
when i am thirsty, look for me in the sky
only in nature where i find my whole self
true and unbroken.

only in the wild wide world where i hear my soul
whispering among trees
sinking into my heart

-lillian pincus-

the world and i are a bit at odds tonight. i wanted rain this weekend, it insisted on being sunny. i was planning on a relaxing fun saturday full of baby showers and best friends, instead i was back at the emergency vet's for hours on end. the run today was supposed to rejuvenate, instead it was work. that being said i feel calm. this is new for me. i am used to feeling topsy-turvy on days such as this, like a carnival ride stuck upside down endlessly. tonight though, tonight i am quietly confident that the life i have is good.

is this what it feels like to grow up, just a smidgeon? because there are days when i want nothing more than to be 7 again. or even better, 5, at the beginning of self-knowledge, when tying my shoes was the hardest task and the biggest accomplishment, when sitting in timeout during dinner was the worst consequence, when reading under the covers with the 2nd (or 3rd) hidden flashlight was the most fun. when joy was not something i had to look for under the bed. but anymore it is almost a given that each day will bring something good. that's amazing to me, that instead of looking for what i need, i can rest assured that it will be there--and it seems that it is only in the relaxation of hope that i can find what it is that fulfills me.

recently i have begun the practice of making eye contact with bums on corners. i don't know why. but in doing so i have made silent acquaintances, and even though i don't often have a dollar or fifty cents to give them, it is easy to give some respect. it seems to me that every time we drive by a person in need without acknowledging them, no matter whether we believe we should help someone begging, we take away a little of the greater humanity that could be present in our species. that should be present in our species. how much worse could it get to be begging on a corner? to have had a home, or a family, or to have fought in the military, or be an addict needing a fix without hope of rehab or help, and then to add the indignity of having your fellow citizens drive by as though you don't exist? as though you are not worthy of a momentary glance, a lifted hand, a smile? as though you aren't worth of recognition as a person?

i'm aware that more often than not, the men and women who beg are going to use that money for booze or crack. i'm aware that they are the people who frequent emergency rooms late at night looking for handouts, and that they are the people who live in the lobby at the DHS offices during the day. i'm not saying that we should blindly hand over money and ignore the root issues. i'm not even saying that all of them are good kind people who deserve help. some of them, like some of us, are rude and intolerant. some of them will never be helped. but in a country that preaches tolerance and forgiveness, that clings so tightly to the word of God and righteousness, i think that we can afford some of our humanity to those people on the street. that part isn't hard. i can imagine that for those of you who work in the direct service jobs where you encounter these people on a daily basis--and i don't include myself or pretend to know what that's like--this isn't something you necessarily want to do, because you do have to deal with them regularly, and i can imagine it's frustrating and awful and makes you want to tear your hair out. i get that. but i think for those of us who don't work in emergency services or crisis relief or homeless shelters, we can do a little bit here and there by simply looking the dude holding a sign on a corner in the eyes. it's an acknowledgment that he is there. that we recognize that no matter what else he is, he is a person. that doesn't seem hard. i can't imagine anyone would lose any part of who they are by doing that.

i know that this is idealistic. maybe it's even stupid. but hey, i'm a social worker. if i don't believe that we can indeed change the state of the world, then what right do i have being in this job? isn't it part of my job to look for that which is malleable in the worst people i encounter? isn't it part of my job to see that anything can be changed, and offer a hand to do so? we don't work to take kids away. we work to put families back together. sometimes that means seeing the most possible good in people who have made bad choices, done stupid things, are evil. and sometimes that's not possible. but isn't it my job to do everything i can to ensure that a change could happen? i think that with the passing of days comes a recognition of the terrible swiftness which moves this world. i gotta use my time. so do you.

there is a place where the sidewalk ends
and before the street begins,
and there the grass grows soft and white,
and there the sun burns crimson bright,
and there the moon-bird rests from his flight
to cool in the peppermint wind.

let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
and the dark street winds and bends.
past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
we shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
and watch where the chalk-white arrows go
to the place where the sidewalk ends.

yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
and we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
for the children, they mark, and the children, they know
the place where the sidewalk ends.

-shel silverstein--

first off a HUGE HAPPY BRITHDAY to my wonderful sister in law. thank you for being absolutely the best SIL a girl could have. love you muchly!

it's late so I'm going to try to keep this short, but there are thoughts rambling that I just have to get out. went to the coast this weekend to be "helper-kid wrangler-parent reliever" for my favorite family at a wedding. all three kids were in it and they were adorable, calm, very mature--especially for the exhausted variety of 7, 6, and 4 yos that they were by the time we put them in my car yesterday afternoon to go back to the hotel. that morning i had woken up to the 7 and 6 yos climbing into bed with me at 6 am. now we all know i'm the opposite of a morning person, but they can wake me with a grin at any time. and yesterday as i lay there with one snuggled on each side of me, watching out the window at the gray sky and listening to them talk, i couldn't help but think back to when i first met them--pre 4 yo, so that's how long i've been lucky enough to have them in my life.

i thought for a long time that i might never find what i was really good at. as much as i love theater...it wasn't ever that perfect fit. and when i moved back home from california, i was so depressed that i could barely get out of bed in the morning. in fact the only reason i did was because their awesome understanding mom told me that i had to be there at 9am every morning to help out. i wasn't always on time. and there were a few days i didn't make it. but more often than not, i got there. for many months the three of them were the only ones who could make me smile and forget the rest of my world. it was so easy with them, holding the baby and rocking her, taking them to preschool, making lunch. it was simple and doable and somewhere in there i fell completely and totally in love with them. i am fairly convinced that until my own kids, and neices and nephews come along, there will be no others who quite measure up. between the three of them, and their cousin who is sandwiched in there between the 4 and 6 yos, what i was looking for appeared without my noticing it. one day i was dithering around their house talking to their mom about not knowing what i wanted to do in school, and she said "kids. you love kids. and you're good with them. try teaching." well, i did, and it was wrong, but through that i fell into working with needy kids, and from there into social work.

looking back it seems much simpler than it was at the time. when the days were filled with kids who willingly took my hand, shared their stories, and sang songs, and parents who didn't mind sharing their kids with me, it makes sense that those were the days that led me back to myself. they were all peanut butter smears and wrestling pillow fights, piggy back rides and squabbles, snuggles and questions, and through them i learned--hell, am still learning--how to be the version of myself that they see. that they love. this weekend the 7yo told me that i was still a kid. it's the highest compliment she can pay--in her eyes, i am old enough to comfort and care for them, and still fun enough to be considered a kid. well, that's how i'm choosing to take it at least.

they are smart. smart to the point of brilliant at times. they are funny, and fun, and so very kind. this weekend they were patient and far calmer than they had any right or reason to be. they create among themselves rules and explanations, they hold each other's hands, and help each other out. it doesn't always go smoothly. duh. but i am proud to be considered their friend. incredibly grateful to their parents for letting me share in their family from time to time. very lucky to have them in my life.

before this weekend i was losing some faith. every day at work brings some new ups and downs, and thursday and friday in particular were hard as i assisted a caseworker with preparing for court and other issues surrounding a case. it was most definitely the worst i'd seen since i started work. i pride myself on my toughening skin, after almost three years of being involved in this type of work, there is little that i let upset me anymore. at least visibly, at least in the office. i do nobody any good by getting sad or shocked by the incidents and families we work with. and i'm learning to reframe to see the tremendous and good effect of our work. but hearing this case was upsetting. and while i had lost faith before, in my coworkers, in parents and family members of our kids, in those around me, i feel that this time was bigger than ever before. and maybe that's part of it. maybe there will be days and moments that will simply be overwhelming, a tsunami of information and emotion rising above me. maybe i need to learn to just let the waves break over me and wash on. i think i already am. but man, friday, friday i was lost in this case, in those kids. couldn't see the forest for the trees, as they say, and was failing in my struggle to reframe in a positive light.

having made a promise to this wonderful family, i wasn't able to run this weekend. not normally a big deal, but that's where i go. that's where i get my faith back, my confidence and courage, even on the terrible runs i feel a little better for having run at all. at the very least i know that if i can go 5 or 7 or 9 miles, i can go back into work the next day, look at it differently, start over, and do my utmost best work. i couldn't do that this weekend. and by the time i got to the coast i was exhausted, completely drained emotionally. but by the time we got to this morning, after breakfasts and dinners and a wedding and bedtime and hugs and songs, after helping their parents set up easter in the rental apartment, i realized that what i'm missing up in portland is a family (one that i get to see regularly) to remind me that there are still good parents in the world. that there are kids who get all of the love and joy and structure and education and love that they deserve and need. there are kids who aren't expected to be more than kids, who don't have to take care of their little siblings, and who get to play. hey look--there it is--restoration of belief--and once again i was caught unawares by the three of them, by the whole family. thanks, guys.

it's very late all of a sudden and i know this is overly sentimental. but there it is. i don't tell them because it's all words that i'm bad at saying out loud, things and thinks that they are too young to hear or necessarily understand, but thanks for saving my life, and for not caring if i looked good when i came over, and for letting me eat dinner with you and tuck you in, and for smiling at me. sleep well tonight, and i'll see you guys really soon. i love you very much.