Shared by Jennifer Laque
Jennifer is an AACPS: Pupil Personnel Worker
Monday
I sit across from a grandparent. This grandparent is strong and steady, focused on enrolling her granddaughter in school. I sense she has decided to prioritize her granddaughter’s needs and that these needs have taken precedent over her efforts in supporting her own daughter’s struggle with addition. I commend her for this, knowing it’s challenge, heartbreaking, and a choice no one should have to make. Then the teas come, the ones she has tried to push back because they’ve come so many times before. The tears continue to be a reminder that this challenge is real, raw, and unfair. I let her know she is not alone and that I have spoken with a caregiver earlier in the week and will be connecting with many others, selfless individuals like her, doing what they must for the grandchild they love and the child that is lost.
Tuesday
Addiction shows no mercy. Today I sit in the kitchen of an Aunt; her brother, the child’s father sits at the table too. “I am a junkie” the child’s father says. “I’m trying my best, but she needs to be with my sister.” I appreciate the father’s blunt honesty. He could be vague, refer simply to his “struggle” but he chooses the truth. He loves his daughter and this pure honesty expresses this love. The aunt places a hand on her brother’s and they exchange a glance of understanding, one I know has not come easy. This exchange is beautiful and a gesture of love that is not always present in such a painful scenario.
Wednesday
The phone rings, “I found them,” the voice says on the other end. We both sigh in relief. The children have been in a hotel on their own for almost a week. The grandfather called the police, searched hotels, and finally received a call from the oldest grandson disclosing their whereabouts. This fortitude is inspiring. This is the third attempt at the boys returning to their mother’s care, and now the third failure. I flashback to that morning a month ago when I was dropping blankets off at the mom’s house and she asked if I had $10 to spare to help with gas. The urgency for the money, the sadness that settled between us when I said no, left us both knowing the money was for something else. Now, this grandfather doesn’t question bringing his grandsons back into his care. It’s what he always does, and it’s what he will continue to do.
Where’s the inspiration or silver lining in these situations you may ask? It’s simply the power and influence that one individual may change the outcome of someone’s life for the better. Not judging the true story that may scare others away. While our caregivers do what they feel they must or what they’ve always done, they are being that one caring adult. This is the most powerful gift for a child to build resiliency and hope. Knowing that there is someone by their side that knows their story and shows up each time regardless.
Thursday
I walk out of my office with a caregiver and we stand in the hall waiting for his grandson to meet us. He rounds the corner and sees his grandfather. His face lights up as he reaches for a hug. He is loved.
