understanding (n.)

Shoes goes back to the Vineyard Town, I go back to the Vineyard Town.  {Coincidentally, the court in Vineyard Town looks nothing like the courtroom above.  Is that a computer monitor at the prosecution table ... ? Real life court is usually not as exciting as you want it to be.  It is not glamorous.  If you're not directly involved, it can be tear jerkingly boring.  My dear friend Sarah is right - sometimes there is a strange, addictive energy ... for those of us on the inside ...}

I was supposed to go back today to testify in a child welfare case.  My heart breaks for this kid.  Really.   It's been three years since the case's inception.  Three years.  No matter what the circumstances are, three years is too long to spend in foster care, completely unsure of who you belong to.  Federal timelines dictate that child welfare cases be wrapped up, primarily, in 12 months. 

I heard that.  No snickering.

I thought we were supposed to be wrapping up soon, permanency found, but, turns out, not quite - with no immediate resolution in sight.  I told Shoes the other day I am just professionally tired.  Amazed it's been three years.  Shocked it's taken this long.  Surprised I've moved away, am in graduate school, and in many substantial ways, still working this case.

This is one of those cases that calls for creative definitions of "success."

I'm trying, kid.  Promise.  We're all trying.  You're in, not by any choice of your own, so I'm in, tired or not, completely present, until we figure it out together.