sketch #5: Quari Street

Driving away from the house I felt a familiar sense of pride - one that I've become accustomed to, but never taken for granted, over the last 3 years. 3 years. That's how long it had been since I met this family of 7 - each of them letting me into their lives little by little - and understood for the first time what pride in the growth and development of a young person feels like. We spent the evening sitting on the front porch (the same one that had been a mess of sidewalk chalk and buckets of water only months before), reminiscing about first meetings, shared dinners of home-cooked fried chicken and lasagna and catching up on gossip about mutual acquaintances. A memory reel - lacrosse games, Chuck E. Cheese, meetings with school counselors, continuations - played in my mind as I listened to a mother's woes and a 4-year-old checked me for "ear boogers." I'd felt already the weight of many goodbyes, but this one read like a lesson in symbolism. Chapter 1: Trust-building; Chapter 2: Advocacy; Chapter 3: Boundaries; Chapter 4: Communication; Chapter 5: Community Re-defined...
I felt a completeness upon being reminded again of my status as a member of this family. And I felt an emptiness as I searched for words to thank each of them, aged 4 through 43 years for what they had meant to me/taught me/rewarded me with. Hugs would have to suffice, and my trademark challenge to each kiddo to do their best in school this year, complete with the warning that I would be checking up on them. After all, if I've learned one thing about kids it's that consistency is key.
As I parked in front of the house I didn't know it yet, but the domino-effect of smiles, followed by shouts of "Miss Melissa!" and the rush to the car to hug me, would be one of the best parting gifts I would receive.