End of an Era

On September 8, my former foster care case manager is retiring. I knew this was coming; not necessarily that she'd be retiring, but that she'd eventually be gone. It's been over 5 years since she was my case manager. I count myself lucky to have maintained a relationship with her all these years. It certainly doesn't feel like it's been that long.

She was such a major part of my life from the day she entered it. I lived in Florence Crittenton then. I remember meeting her and liking her instantly. She became a great support to me, not only during my short time in foster care, but for all this time since then. She was the kind of case manager who allowed me to make my own decisions about where I live and what direction my life would take. She offered me the independent living transition program and I gladly took it. She was completely prepared for me to leave foster care. She sent me the paperwork to file for disability (based on my severe mental illness). She got me set up in the county mental health system and accompanied me to my first meeting with the case manager there. She supported me in my decisions about school and work and helped me in any way she could. She was always there as a listening ear and occasionally an advice-giver. She is one of the biggest reasons I've come as far as I have. Imagine me without mental health care, without income, without housing. She taught me to be resourceful and to learn about programs that are out there that are designed to help people like me.

When I turned 21 and left the foster care system completely, I was despairing over the impending loss of this wonderful woman. When I told her how upset I was, she told me she was not gone and that she would be there for as long as I needed her.

Now she's retiring. I knew the day would come. Sometimes I think I'm not ready to let go yet. And in other ways I think about how our relationship has evolved. I used to talk to her nearly every week. When I got out of my last group home and into the independent living program, in my own apartment, she came for home visits. I saw her and talked to her all the time. I needed her. And in some ways I still need her. But in the last 5 years our phone calls have become more sporadic. I'll go a few months at a time without talking to her. I've only seen her once in these 5 years. Whether she intended to or not, she has done a great job of allowing me to let go slowly. I don't want her to leave. But I don't feel abandoned like I usually do. I don't feel like my world is going to come crashing down like I do when people leave so suddenly. I'll miss her and I wish her the best in her retirement.