Tonight I found out that "Will,"* one of my favorite guys at CASPAR (the shelter where I volunteer weekly), hasn't been around lately because he got housing. Of course I'm glad that he got housing but I'm reminded of why it stinks to be a volunteer and not a full time staff.
As a volunteer I never really get to know these guys (and some gals). I'm only there one day a week so even though I develop rapport it's only surface deep. I often can't tell when they are making up stories to pull one over on me. Tonight one told me that he had a partial lobotomy when he was 26, staff confirmed that this wasn't true but I believed it for a good 15 minutes.
When Will told me he was going to get an apartment I figured that some optimistic caseworker was putting silly ideas in his head. Turns out that the optimistic caseworker was right and I never had a chance to say goodbye.
I'm truly going to miss him, he was at the shelter the whole year and four months that I've been going there. Every week he'd tell me my eyes were so blue with such curiosity that I am certain that he doesn't remember the majority of our conversations. He was inappropriate enough to make me blush but not so bad that I was truly uncomfortable. And he had great stories. I'll miss him but I don't know if he ever even knew my name.
*Name changed to protect confidentiality
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