I'm a former foster youth. From the age of 12, I had something called a CASA, which is basically, a half mentor, half advocate. At 24, I've known her longer than anyone else in my life, she loved me like a daughter, and I loved her like a mom.
Late last year Mickey got lukemia and within 3 weeks she passed. Last time I talked to her she said she was feeling better. I wanted to call the days leading up to what I now know to be her last days, but I guess I was scared. Then late one night my caller ID said her name, but I knew it wasn't her. I feel like I never got to say goodbye.The guilt just, it eats at me.
Mickey believed in me more than I ever thought I could be believed in. I know that she doesn't care if I called. I know she looks down and probably thinks I'm silly for fretting over something so small, but it still gets to me, She never doubted I would make something of myself. She just had this leaping faith it me, I've never truly understood it. I know she was proud of me even if I don't fully understand why.
The last gift Mickey ever bought me was a birthday gift, my very first TV. Three weeks ago I decided to pack everything in my car and move from San Diego to Eugene, Oregon. The TV didn't fit. I reminded myself that Mickey and my relationship wasn't based on material things and even if I didn't have the TV it wouldn't change the relationship we had.
I bravely sold it and used the money to live out a long time dream of moving to the rain. I've been here a week and today I got a package from an old case worker turned friend, who looks at me with that same leaping faith look, just complete confidence that I'll become something. The same proud look.
It had the giving key and the word "Create" on it. I don't know what to "Create" and in some ways I wish Mickey was here to give me an idea - I don't know what to create but I have to have a leaping faith in myself, the same faith they have in me and know whatever it is, it's gonna be great.
