Week 22: The next foothold

I cried on Saturday about my job. Dave got an earfull. Sometimes I feel like my job is insignificant. I am a vocational rehab counselor for adults with disabilities. It is intermittently worthwhile and discouraging.

This morning a staff person told me that one of my clients was crying. I found her out front, sitting in the sun and staring at the ground. We talked for a few minutes and then she said, "What really upsets me is ... are you leaving?" She usually avoids direct eye contact, but in that moment she looked right at me.

"No, I'm not leaving." I explained that I will be gone for a short time after the baby is born, and then I will return. She nodded and said she was ready to go back to work.

There it was. The little flicker of hope that somebody cares that I am at least here, perhaps not renovating a society, but at least a constant in her life.