Inside Out People

Nearly a year and a half ago I started my job as a caseworker with refugees from Cuba. Today is my last day.

I knew this day, August 22, was coming for quite a while, and at times it seemed like it couldn’t get here soon enough. But here it is, and yes, it has snuck up on me.

This afternoon after hauling a desk/cabinet/shelf/monstrosity from one house to another, and after dropping off a couple of food baskets for recently arrived clients, I’ll come back to the office and I’ll begin to clean out my desk. I’ll find the company handbook which has sat in the drawer, unread, all this time. I’ll find receipts I should have turned in months ago. I’ll begin sorting through sticky notes, deciding which ones my coworkers might need, and which ones to toss. I’ll turn in my keys. I’ll turn off the lights.

Already today, on the phone and on the street, I have let some clients know that today is my last day which has warranted handshakes and (sad?) smiles and “suerte con todo y dios te bendiga.”

I’ll still be around, though. In a sense I’m not going anywhere. I’ll still run into Cubans on the street and they’ll still ask me where their rent check is and I’ll remind them that it’s no longer my responsibility. They’ll already know this, of course, but they’ll have gotten in the habit of asking. Can’t hardly blame ‘em. We all have our habits, you know; our routines.

And one of the things I’ve noticed about habits and routines is that we begin to lose sight of the details. We begin to go through life, bouncing from one thing to the next, when all we have, if we’re honest, is this moment, in this place, with these people. So one thing I have been trying to do better during this recent phase of life and one thing I will keep trying to do as I begin the next phase is to notice. To notice colors and smells and tastes and feelings, to notice the looks on people’s faces, the gum marks on the sidewalk, the birds in the air and the songs that they sing… you know, the stuff of life. To notice, one of these days, that the hot, humid August air has given way to the crisp, cool air of September, and that the late-afternoon shadows of buildings on city streets seem to be a bit more pronounced than usual.

To notice. After all…

Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God:
But only he who sees, takes off his shoes,
The rest sit round it, and pluck blackberries.
(Elizabeth Barrett Browning)

This entry was posted on Friday, August 22nd, 2008 at 12:58 pm and is filed under Inside-Out. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.