A man used this to help him take his life. I'm hoping that it gives me some instead. Football season's almost over. Baseball season starts soon.
The Party of No
14 years ago
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Loss and Return
There are a few moments in life when people can start over. Transgressions are washed away. Memories of the past are no longer automatically tied to the present state of the individual.
Tomorrow should be that day for a small group whose lives are now forever bound by an act, still unclear, which took place a handful of years ago. The destruction which took place can now finally be repaired. No longer will artificial barriers keep them from confronting their selves and each other.
But more importantly, tomorrow is when a son, brother, and friend will come home. To be held and nurtured. To throw a baseball and shoot a basketball. To gamble and hunt. To laugh and cry. To begin anew.
I love you.
Tomorrow should be that day for a small group whose lives are now forever bound by an act, still unclear, which took place a handful of years ago. The destruction which took place can now finally be repaired. No longer will artificial barriers keep them from confronting their selves and each other.
But more importantly, tomorrow is when a son, brother, and friend will come home. To be held and nurtured. To throw a baseball and shoot a basketball. To gamble and hunt. To laugh and cry. To begin anew.
I love you.
Monday, December 11, 2006
(Tryin' To) Do The Right Thing
Before I went into practice, every attorney I talked to said that I needed to be prepared to give more than legal advice to my clients. Attorneys are considered by their clients to be counselors, priests, minor-miracle workers, etc. Fine, I thought, I feel as if I'm a pretty good friend to have, and that's probably what most people need, so I'm set. Well, was I fucking off, to say the least.
Clients do not just need lawyers, but grief therapists, mental health professionals, financial analysts, and parents, just to name a few. They need someone who they can ask a question about anything and get an answer back that they not only want to hear, but can actually implement. Obviously, a single attorney is not qualified to even begin all of these tasks. (I find myself struggling to answer all of their legal questions.) But this fact actually matters little to those who come to us. As it should.
But it puts lawyers in an extremely difficult position. Often the demands made upon them by clients cut into the time they would be spending researching and writing, the hallmarks of any good, compentent lawyer. Not only does a lawyer feel the stress associated by having to fix their clients' problems, but it is compounded when they realize that after they are done solving one dilemma, they must attend to the routine, everyday business an attorney is expected do.
What makes this all the more frustrating are situations like what happened with me today. A client wanted to meet. It was unscheduled, but necessary because of some recent events in which she had been involved. I had other work that had to get done, but penciled her in for the afternoon. We ended up meeting, and I gave her advice on what she needed to do with an aspect of her life. I didn't feel as if I was being paternalistic, but simply trying to convey that her behavior not only threatened her case, but was endangering the relationships she has with her children. Looking back on it, it may have seemed forward, but because of what she had done, I felt it was called for.
To make a long story short, there is now a probability we might lose her. I made a judgment call based on what I felt was in her best interests as a person and not simply in the litigation. Apparently, though, I gave her an answer that not only could she not implement, she didn't even want to begin to hear. My partners backed my decision to confront even before all of this occurred, but I was still left feeling hurt.
I stepped in a role to which I am often called. And rather than doing the best thing for the case and making her happy, I did the best thing for her self. It goes back to something I wrote in the last post: the law is a business now. But what I left out is not only do lawyers perpetuate it, but so do a lot clients. The best-intentioned client can say money doesn't matter, but when those dollars become a greater reality, it's a whole different ballgame. All of a sudden their case becomes a mortgage payment, a new car, or some better clothes. They no longer really want that advisor, but a "yes" man. And when that happens, doing the right thing can become a whole lot harder.
Clients do not just need lawyers, but grief therapists, mental health professionals, financial analysts, and parents, just to name a few. They need someone who they can ask a question about anything and get an answer back that they not only want to hear, but can actually implement. Obviously, a single attorney is not qualified to even begin all of these tasks. (I find myself struggling to answer all of their legal questions.) But this fact actually matters little to those who come to us. As it should.
But it puts lawyers in an extremely difficult position. Often the demands made upon them by clients cut into the time they would be spending researching and writing, the hallmarks of any good, compentent lawyer. Not only does a lawyer feel the stress associated by having to fix their clients' problems, but it is compounded when they realize that after they are done solving one dilemma, they must attend to the routine, everyday business an attorney is expected do.
What makes this all the more frustrating are situations like what happened with me today. A client wanted to meet. It was unscheduled, but necessary because of some recent events in which she had been involved. I had other work that had to get done, but penciled her in for the afternoon. We ended up meeting, and I gave her advice on what she needed to do with an aspect of her life. I didn't feel as if I was being paternalistic, but simply trying to convey that her behavior not only threatened her case, but was endangering the relationships she has with her children. Looking back on it, it may have seemed forward, but because of what she had done, I felt it was called for.
To make a long story short, there is now a probability we might lose her. I made a judgment call based on what I felt was in her best interests as a person and not simply in the litigation. Apparently, though, I gave her an answer that not only could she not implement, she didn't even want to begin to hear. My partners backed my decision to confront even before all of this occurred, but I was still left feeling hurt.
I stepped in a role to which I am often called. And rather than doing the best thing for the case and making her happy, I did the best thing for her self. It goes back to something I wrote in the last post: the law is a business now. But what I left out is not only do lawyers perpetuate it, but so do a lot clients. The best-intentioned client can say money doesn't matter, but when those dollars become a greater reality, it's a whole different ballgame. All of a sudden their case becomes a mortgage payment, a new car, or some better clothes. They no longer really want that advisor, but a "yes" man. And when that happens, doing the right thing can become a whole lot harder.
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