My turn

Friday. Late Friday...but still Friday. Yeah.

I have been so tired this week. Unusually so. 8pm rolls around and all I want is my bed. I am attributing it to this out of the norm warm weather we have been having. Mid eighties with threats of thunder storms. You would think it was July.

Our town is flooded with weekend tourists. Campers, Motorhomes and Mini Vans filled to the brim with out of towners. I stopped at the store on the way home tonight. When I went to check out, I noticed this guy leaning against one of the clothing racks. I stepped in front of him and took my place in line. He was tall, handsome and looking rather forlorn holding a shirt in his hand. Next thing I know he is behind me. I offered an apology if I cut in front of him, but he had said none was needed. He proceeded to ask me about the weather here, the forecast for this weekend, and whether the storms would make it cold. I was amused by his accent and wondered what had brought him to our town. He was from Canada.

I am always amazed at how so many people find this little city in the middle of Oregon. On the way home, I saw license plates from New York, Florida, and Kentucky. As well as the standard Washington, California and Idaho. I made a new client, a couple weeks back, and they were moving here from Texas. They had only been here once, to pick a house. Otherwise, they only knew of this place via the internet. She watched the weather patterns, property values and employment rate for about six months before making her decision. They didn't know anyone here, had no family nearby, they simply wanted something better than what they had. (not that there is anything wrong with Texas. Yeah Stars!)

I have another client, that relocated here from New Hampshire. If I remember right. She moved here with her new husband and expecting a new family member to her new family. She is young and had this picture perfect image of what life was going to be like for them. I had wished, at the time, that I had felt so confident about their situation and circumstances as she did. But after hearing her story, I had felt this weird sense of dread. I rejoiced with her, congratulated and wished her the best of luck, even so. She came into the office a couple weeks ago, tears flooding her eyes, asking if there was a way we could help regarding something that had happened. I couldn't, business wise, but I sat and talked to her to try to help calm her worries. She left that day smiling. She left that day believing that it would all be ok.

Today, she came in. Her lips quivering, familiar tears on the edge of her lashes, her four month baby girl straddled to her tummy in a carrier and beads of sweat pouring down her face because she had walked all the way to my office. I knew it wasn't good. I knew what she was going to say before she even said it. "Michelle," she said "I have been living in this bubble I created and now it has popped. He is gone. He has left before for days on end, but this is the last time. I am done. I don't know what to do. I have no friends because I thought all I needed was my husband and now he is gone. I am really stressed and don't know if I can do this anymore."

I took care of what needed to be done as far as business was concerned, took a deep breathe and drew on what I had felt, a long time ago. First, I gave her the customary advice on what resources she had through the community and what was available to her financially. Second, I told her that she needed to pull out all the strength she had left. I told her to take all the energy she was spending on grief and put it towards making a good life for her daughter. I told her that there are reasons for everything (yes I do believe that) even when it would seem to be the hardest thing we have ever had to deal with, and those reasons to explain the 'why' seem inexplicable. There will be water through the fire, moments of joy to quench the hurt. I told her to stop and take a breathe. To look at her baby girl's face, her smile, her tiny fingers and toes and know that she is reason to move forward, to try harder. I gave her my home number and told her to call me. I told her that if she needed anything, anything at all, that I would help in whatever way I could even if it was just to go for a walk and talk. And last, I told her that I would be her friend. She cried.

She left the office today smiling, perhaps only for a moment until the hopefullness that she started to feel waned in the shadow of what her reality was. I don't know.

I hope she calls.