humble pie

that's exactly what i had a large, but satisfying slice of tonight.  i've been feeling this overwhelming pressure of having to be honest with sharon and tell her that this isn't the right place or time for me at this point in my life and that i need/want with all that i am to be back home with my family, but i've been scared shitless to tell her. but i decided, today is the day. i can't put this off anymore (especially if i want there to be any chance of me getting rid of my now 72 hour migraine...hence the lack of blogging). so right when seh came through the door, there were no guests home yet and our visitor john was out on the town for the day, i knew it was the right time to speak up and be honest.  before i could open my mouth she said, "now be honest, how are you doing with everything?" and obviously i started to tear up...i didn't lose it though which i was happy about. i told her everything i had been feeling. how it just doesn't feel right to me. and about how much i really wanted this to be right for me. but how i can no longer fight what my heart is telling me...a completely cheesy but entirely true schpeal about why i can't stay here for another five months merely to prove to myself that i complete something. and she knew. she understood. she could tell that this is exactly how i was feeling and that i had been feeling this way most of the time. i guess i'm really not as inconspicuous as i think i am about how i feel. but anyways, she truly understood how i felt. which, i'm gonna be honest by saying, i thought she would have a completely different reaction. i mean, i was prepared to have to pack up and leave tonight if she was angry or whatever (my worst case scenarios are always the most ridiculous things i've ever heard of once whatever i'm thinking about already happens but before it happens, they always seem like plausible outcomes). so i told her. i did it. i was a big girl and she understood. she could tell my heart wasn't here in the san jose catholic worker and that it was at home in st. louis. which believe me, i've been struggling with for the past month and realistically a lot longer than that. is it selfish to want to be home surrounded by my family and friends that love me and respect me as opposed to being in a foreign city thousands of miles away? maybe. but the way i see it, when you're in line with your heart and your hearts desires and what makes your heart the biggest, then you're set. and all i know, is that at this point my heart is at home. with my family. the last place i thought it would be and honestly, the last place i wanted it to be. i wanted this to be so much more than a month of crazy compacted spiritual and emotional growth. i wanted this to be my life. so i came here to find that it's not. and that's OKAY. i'm okay with that. i'm actually more than okay with that. i know myself well enough to know that i'm not ever going to settle. i'm always going to try and do more. become more. but i can do that at home just the same. now i'm gonna whip out another motha t quote and say that "love begins at home, and it is not how much we do... but how much love we put in that action." now i might be speaking too soon/digging myself into a bit of a hole by saying this but i know that being here, regardless for how long, i have gained so much appreciation and respect for my family and friends. i know that i'm now able to consciously put so much more love into the little things that i do for them than i did before. and to me, that alone has made this all worth it.

but what's made it entirely worth it for me has been the last few days. the relationships i've been building with these women who are so loving and strong and funny. they remind me of my mom, or at least who she would be best friends with at work on the mother baby floor. one's a nurse and one's a medical assistant.  honestly, i constantly forget that they're in the position they're in. which i think is the purpose and beautiful effect of living in community. but on nights like these, when they're being real with me and telling me like it is, i remember. i remember that i'm someone who chose to come here and these women didn't have a choice. this was there last option. either here or under a bridge. and that's what i get so frustrated about. is yeah sure i can cook dinner for them and laugh with them and encourage them but i can't get them out of this situation. i can't buy them an apartment or get them that job. god i wish i could. i would do anything to be able to do that for them. to give them that relief. because these women are my friends. tonight, when we were sitting around the dining room table drinking our hot tea and talking, i felt like i was with two of my aunts after a family get-together. just laughing, sharing stories and teasing each other. this is what i will miss. these women. that have taught me more than they will ever know.

so yeah, i'm going home. but that is not the end of my journey. it's really just starting i feel like. and i'm so excited to bring this community back home with me. and to see what it's going to grow into once it's home. i wanted to leave you all tonight with an e-mail from my overly dramatic but slightly adorable 10 year old sister (mom, do not show her or tell her that i'm posting this on here). she sent this to me yesterday and this completely seeled the deal of how in love with my family i am. just read.

"Dear Caitlin,


I don't really know how to post a comment but I guess it's in my blood from all the time Libby spends on Facebook. I wish so much that I was there with you. I would give anything to hug you right now. Every night I sit in my bed and wish that you were here, giving me good advice again. I miss your split personalities--how you laugh at me and make me want to punch you and sometimes how you let me be cool with you and Libby (even though I don't quite pull it off), but my favorite is when you and I both love and understand each other. I mean the real love. not the kind that we say after good night. the love that would wait a year for the one you love. the love that makes you want to scream and pull your hair out. i don't think we should toss that small but strong,four lettered word like a beachball. if only we knew what's in store for us if we loved someone. as i write this, i cry. sad tears, hopefull tears, fursterated tears. god, how much i wold give to hear your laugh. i hope that if i was the one in calofonia, that you would have the same emotion as me.
love, clare"