Early this morning, I picked a client up from jail, took her to see her kids, then to in-patient drug treatment. It sounds so stark, but it was really such a beautiful day.
It was a warm, blue-bird day and I'd worked really hard on getting the details together to make this happen for my client. She would've had to stay in jail and not see her kids or get help without some serious coordinating of parole/judge/treatment/family.
I pulled into the jail parking lot just before they opened and my client was excitedly watching me from her cell window, anxious to get on the road to see her kids. The last time I'd seen her she was balling and most of the times I'd seen her at all she was skinny as a rail, and she just looked, well, sad.
She was self-medicating (i.e. taking a lot of drugs so as not to have to face all her problems instead making them worse.) She looked unhealthy and cried a lot. She basically said the only reason she hadn't killed herself was because of her kids and I was looking questioningly at their safety with her.
Today though, she looked so happy and hopeful. She was up for the treatment she faces and to proving to probation that she can do it. She's gained weight and smiled a lot. She spent time with her kids and the energy of all that hope was just infectious.
This is not the first time she's been to treatment, and it may not be the last, but for today, she has hope. And I got to be part of it. The whole day took me more than 400 miles and 12 hours. I truly believe in this woman and the possibility of her success, and so it was worth every minute.
I quit. Sort of.
2 days ago