May Day

When this song came through the car speakers on my way to work yesterday, I could not hold back the tears. It was not the first time I had heard the song, but it gave words to the emotions and thoughts swirling through my head.

This week, I'm worn. My caseload is high. I'm behind on paperwork and behind on my investigations.

A mother of a baby born full of drugs tells me that she is an adult and I can't tell her what to do.

A father refuses to take a drug screen, storms out of the house, and puts his babies in the car, while I rush in front of the car, informing him of the consequences that will occur if he proceeds.

A mother who's home was raided and meth and drug paraphernalia were found throughout, tells me that all that stuff was there when she moved in (a month ago).

A mother tells me that she was buying Sudafed for her neighbors, but she received no compensation, and she had no idea what they were using it for. 

A doctor examines a little girl that I brought into the ER and tells me that the little girl, who was living in a home where meth was manufactured in the basement and the fumes were vented through the heating system, has pneumonia due to her toxic environment.

A mother promises me that this time is the last time that she and her ex will fight in front of their young child.

And a little girl who is now in relative care wakes up at night screaming and says that she feels different than all the other kids at school.

And the week is not quite over.

I feel like I'm losing the fight against child abuse. And as I am in their houses or in that jail listening to parents' lies and excuses, I can't beat the discouragement.  I may be able to protect kids from future abuse, but the real fight is for the parents. What those kids really need is their parents.
 

Let me see redemption win; let me know the struggle ends, 

that you can mend a heart that's frail and torn. 

I wanna know a song can rise from the ashes of a broken life

and all that's dead inside can be reborn.

I need to know that a person can change.


But yesterday, after my emotional drive, I arrived at work and found this.

It was May Day.

Flowers and a box of goodies might seem insignificant, but it reminded me that my work is appreciated by the community. I was able to take a few deep breaths and acquire a perspective that stretches beyond this stressful week.

I can let the unanswered questions rest. Not everything will get done today that needs to get done, but that is ok. I'll be back tomorrow to take it on again.