Opposition in All Things

I don't know if I have the vocabulary necessary to accurately describe the emotional roller coaster I've experienced today.

This morning doctors induced labor on my cousin, which led to the birth of my apparently beautiful and genetically blessed pseudo-nephew type kid, Aidyn. My little sister dutifully kept me informed of the process and provided me with the play by play via text message while I sat in a training for work. My excitement grew with each text as I waited for the REAL DEAL and I wished that I could have been home in Louisiana for the occasion and could have spent that time celebrating with the rest of the family!

At nearly the same moment that the baby was finally born, I was informed by a friend and coworker that one of my former clients had committed suicide by drug overdose in her apartment last night and that her body had just been found by a family member. I work as a social worker in child protection and had spent over two years working with this lady and her family, which consists of four children ages 11 to 18, all in foster homes. I really became very close to the whole family during this process of meeting with them and helping them to make changes and cope with problems in their lives. The woman had even said before that I was like part of the family! No small compliment for someone who she could easily blame for much of the sadness in her life. Instantly I felt numb and flooded with guilt for not having returned a recent phone call (since she was now working with another worker, I just passed the message on to him.) And my own feelings from losing my dad four years ago came back to me. I was left there trying to figure out how I could help the new worker deal with this incredible crisis and wishing there was something I could have done to prevent her kids from having to deal with one more tragedy in their less-than-stellar lives. I ended up spending the evening with the oldest girl and talking with her about events leading up to her mother's suicide, her own plans for the future, good times with her mother, the death of my own dad, and distracting her with dinner and a movie before dropping her off at a friend's house and encouraging her to stay clean and sober while going through this painful time.

I find it interesting in my profession how I am called upon over and over to help others through their personal tragedies, and how frequently these experiences dredge up old hurts, issues, feelings, and wounds from my past that I must face anew. It is a constant battle for social workers to work through our own issues over and over again as we help our clients learn to do the same. I felt that losing my dad was somehow almost necessary for me to be able to help this girl work through the loss of her mother, and for a moment I was almost oddly grateful for the experience.

Throughout the day I went from happily discussing the details of the birth and preparations to bring the baby home, to solemnly informing family members and friends of the death of their loved one. Depending on who I was talking to, I was either elated or devastated at any given moment. I was laughing in one breath and crying in the next, taking my cues from the person on the other end of the phone. Once, while driving the girl back to her car, I was talking away excitedly on the phone to my aunt, the new grandma!, and at the same time was painfully aware of the quiet suffering going on in the next seat over.

The juxtaposition of the feelings of grief and celebration, life and death, sickness and health, two families experiencing joy and tragedy at nearly the same moment, both families being tied to me and all of this reality coming together within me alone at this instant was overwhelming to say the least. I've spent the remainder of the day trying to figure out how to process the situation, and how to find how I really feel. I've been contemplating how one person can experience such intense happiness and pain in the same mind, body, and moment. I fear that my words won't do it justice. The uniqueness of this experience both fascinates and confounds me. It was too precious and too poignant not to share.