Saturday, March 14, 2009

Go n-eírí an bóthar leat


It’s been a sad week at my internship some of us as get really emotionally involved with our clients something my sensei does his best to discourage. I guess this is his way of making sure we’re emotionally protected. A couple of events this week made me understand his reasoning. Personally it's not a reasoning I can embrace as my own. All of the people I deal with in my life become part of my heart only time proves whether that's a wise choice or not. Sometimes the end result makes my heart sing other times it weeps.



My sensei interrupted Wednesday’s staff meeting with the news that one of our clients had been found dead in her apartment. We weren’t told the cause of death but sometimes what isn’t said speaks volumes. All eyes turned towards her therapist. The client had come in the day before needing to talk but the therapist had called out sick. The therapist who had once been my sensei’s mentee seemed to take the death in stride. If she had any emotional attachment towards her client she’d hid it well. I wondered if the therapist felt remorse over her client’s death… you know one of those ‘if only’ moments.


While everyone gathered around the therapist and offered her their condolences I walked out of the meeting with an aching sadness in my heart. My thoughts turned to the other clients who’d been her friends. I worried about how they’d take the news. For the next couple of days sadness hung in the air, we were all affected by the beautiful singer’s death. The therapist who has taken me under his wing was angry; “some one should have seen her.” he’d fumed. Later on during a group session he addressed his clients “If I’m not here and you need to talk to someone don’t take no for an answer, ” he said as he turned his head to look at me, “you find someone. You all have my number call me if you need me.”

When the meeting was over he pulled me to the side, he was angry and needed to talk. He was angry about the emotional detachment towards our clients that is encouraged in the name of maintaining boundaries. My protector likes my style of therapy it is similar to his own except I don’t cuss while in session. My style is a constant source of irritation to my sensei. He’s trying to mould me into his image; I fight him all the way. My protector grabbed my hand and jerked his head in the direction of my sensei’s and former mentees offices, “Mia, don’t you ever become like those assholes. No matter how hard they try to change you. You hear me?” I nodded my head. I thought of the client. “I promise.” I repeated.

The world is a sadder place without her she added beauty to it and now she’s gone. She was well known on the indy music scene, one of her songs,“Under My Skin” had even been featured on an episode of Dawson’s Creek. I’d loved the song when I’d heard it and years later when I met her I never connected her with it. She was a singer was all she’d say. She was a beautiful woman with the voice of an angel,but more than that she was a beautiful soul in a world that is always not so pretty.

I’d met the Irish woman named Maura during my second semester when I was shadowing the man who would become my mentor. From the very start we’d connected through our love of music and our twisted sense of humor. She’d always send me into fits of laughter with her funny stories. My favorites were when she’d talk about her family “I’m going to go all Lucky Charms on you Mia.” She’d warn whenever she was about to launch into a flawless imitation of her mother’s Irish accent. I’ll miss her. Her parting has left a void but I’ll always fill it with remembered joy. I know I’ll never forget her. Whenever we parted for the day she’d lay an Irish blessing on me. Now it’s my turn. Maura, Go n-eírí an bóthar leat. (May the road rise with you.)

Labels: death, internship

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