Tag: friendship

Forgiveness~Empathy~Friendship

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Experiencing forgiveness, whether on the granting or receiving end, is powerful. Crucial life lessons are learned on both sides of a transgression. The one being forgiven feels a great relief and hopefully learns from their mistakes. The one offering forgiveness appreciates, even more, the instances when they have been on the receiving end. Sounds simple, yet not always the case.

Children often unintentionally demonstrate these truths clearly, if we take the time to watch and listen. Picture one of my kindergarten classes sitting around our music circle, coloring pictures of pumpkins and leaves.  Their fall themed artwork was also to include rhythmic patterns based on phrases about their subject.  For example, “leaves are falling” or “pumpkins everywhere” or “jump in a leaf pile.” Vivaldi’s “Autumn” playing quietly in the background.

Yes, I know it sounds very picturesque, but don’t be fooled.  This is one of those class times that is a struggle for me-giving up a certain level of control and giving students the chance to be social and creative.  It lends itself to a higher noise level and a tiny bit of controlled chaos.  Results are usually pretty cool!  That is until there is a transgression… one student marking on the beautiful, in progress, artwork of his friend.

Typically, it is the student who has been wronged that seeks my attention.  “She stuck her tongue out at me!” “He pulled my hair!” “She told me to shut up!” You get the idea.  On this particular day, the opposite was true. The artist didn’t make a big fuss although disappointed.  I told him he could start a new work if he’d like and asked the other student to apologize. Everyone back to work, all is well. Right?

A few moments later the student who committed the “coloring on my friend’s paper” infraction was standing in front of me with tears in his eyes. “Oh dear, what’s wrong?” I asked. “I apologized, but he wouldn’t accept my apology.” Hmmm…what to do? So many ways I could respond to this conflict. I’m not sure if my choice was the best, but it did have an interesting result.

Empathy-the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.

I began to talk to the teary-eyed transgressor about why his friend was upset. As with my own children, I attempted to help my student put himself in his friend’s place. “How would you feel if you were working hard on your artwork and someone marked on your paper?” On the surface a simple question, but not always an easy place to find yourself. His tears indicated his comprehension, and in a “kindergarten kind of way,” he began to understand.

For the remainder of the class, this particular friend stuck with me like glue. Tears turned to smiles, offers to help with clean up, wanting to have more conversations. Why? Just as being forgiven evokes feelings of relief and freedom, an apology not being accepted brings the opposite-guilt and sadness. However, when we learn to place ourselves in the shoes of the ones we have hurt, then we begin to develop empathy. Our focus moves from being self-centered to others-centered.

Which is more powerful? The ability to forgive or the ability to empathize? I suppose it depends on the situation, transgression, and the people involved. Obviously, consequences come into play, long and short term. But what if we see them as tied together, working hand in hand? I believe if we can help children learn to empathize, having a spirit of forgiveness will naturally follow. And just maybe they will begin to stop and think before making a choice which negatively affects their friend.

But wait, maybe the foundation for this whole discussion should instead be the word “friend.” Becoming a friend is a process. An acquaintance becomes a companion, the companion becomes a supporter, and so on. And if I truly support someone, I’m much more likely to think about the impact of my actions.

Once we learn what it means to be a friend, the potential for both empathy and forgiveness grows exponentially. It still requires effort and work. It does not just magically happen without being intentional. Like everything else worth doing in life, it takes practice. But the results are oh so worth the work!

Here’s to forgiveness, empathy, and friendship.  Especially when witnessed through the eyes of kindergarteners.  May I pay careful attention to opportunities this next week for expressing and teaching these vital life lessons during music class, especially the importance of being a good friend.

You’ve Got a Friend

Rescuing Turtles

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Today I saw a sweet lady rescuing a misguided turtle on the side of the road. This poor turtle was at the corner of an extremely busy intersection, preparing to hop the curb and take his chances. We all know the likely outcome. Thankfully someone kind spotted him and decided to offer some guidance. Smiling while talking to him, she carefully picked him up and helped him head in a much safer direction.

I’ve always found turtles interesting. Carrying their house around with them at first glance seems proficient. No matter where they travel or what danger lurks, they have instant protection. Just ducking their head, feet and tail inside that hard shell provide safety. Considering the slow speed at which they move, it seems this feature would be a plus.

But what about the weight? Maybe it’s the weight of that shell that causes the slow tempo. They certainly seem to carry around a heavier load compared to other creatures their size. Please note, I’m not speaking scientifically. I have not actually researched the structure of turtles, simply making observations based on watching them.

This may seem an odd comparison but witnessing this woman’s act of kindness towards the turtle caused me to transfer the scene to people. We all come in contact with people who, for various reasons, are moving slowly through life. Maybe they’re temporarily carrying extra weight because of job stresses, life circumstances, varying differences. They may appear self-sufficient like they have it all together, but the reality under that shell is quite the opposite.

No matter the reason, that extra weight has the power to affect decision making. I have personally experienced that feeling of being at a busy intersection, trying to choose the right path, in desperate need of assistance. Others passing by so quickly it’s difficult to get their attention. Wondering if anyone will take the time to stop and say hello. And once they do stop, hoping they are willing to offer some help.

I have also experienced the opposite.  Slowing down long enough to realize a friend needs help.  Noticing they seem sad, not acting in their usual manner.  Sometimes a rescue is simple-listening over coffee, sending a sweet note.  Other times it may be more complicated, requiring time, energy, and possibly sacrifice.

Both experiences are an inevitable part of life.  So next time you find yourself at one of life’s busy crossroads, slow down and look around. Maybe there is a weighted down, misguided turtle who needs your assistance. Stop and listen. You might just end up being their hero! And remember, the time may also come when you are the turtle in need of rescue. If so, don’t be discouraged. Keep putting one foot in front of the other, and don’t give up. Your hero could be waiting at the next intersection.

A Letter to Moms

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Dear Mom Friends,

Oh, how we need each other!  This motherhood business is tough.  From the moment we first meet our little ones, everything changes!  New responsibilities and emotions-not to mention hormones.  There’s almost a crisis of identity as we discover our new “normal.”  And just about the time we’ve figured out who we are again, those precious little ones are all grown up.  Which brings us right back to that identity crisis problem-not to mention the return of the hormones.

The beautiful part is no matter which end of this spectrum we currently find ourselves, there is someone we can help.  We moms with many years of experience are able to provide reassurance and encouragement to younger moms.  And you young ones…we “older” moms need you equally as much!  As you confide in us, we feel needed.  You remind us that our experience holds value.

We are in this mom thing together-the beautiful, difficult, happy, sad, funny, frustrating, silly-and that only describes one day in any given week!   Or possibly only one hour, depending on the day.  So don’t be discouraged.  You are beautiful and you’re doing a great job!

Now–go take a nap!  Or go to bed!  Whichever currently applies…

Sincerely,

Your Mom Friend Kelley

List the Positives

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Yesterday I vowed to keep a list of positives throughout the day today in hopes of helping my mood and focus.  Well…I have a list.  It took me until lunch time to actually start writing anything down, but by the end of the day my list covered both sides of a post-it note.

  •  Cooler weather
  •  Students positive responses to having a choice between whiteboards and popsicle  sticks for writing or constructing their rhythmic patterns.
  •  Hearing, “I got it right!”
  •  Receiving three books from students off of my book fair list.
  •  Unplanned, improvised “singing” of one of those books.
  •  A student who has severe anxiety, always sits alone and doesn’t speak to me,  accepted a music stamp on his hand when leaving class today.

Was it a perfect day?  No-there’s no such thing.  But was it a good day?  Yes.  And even though I may not be able to use my mood as an indicator for the success of the day, I can look back on my list and be reminded of the things that were good.  Funny thing is, almost all the items are things over which I have little or no control.

So what do I have control over?  Continuing to look for the positive.  My responses to the people and situations I encounter.  Loving my family, friends, and students.

Any guesses which book I sang today?  It was super fun!

books

 

Life’s Roles

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Daughter first

Sister second

Years later wife

Mom times three

Cousin, niece, aunt

Friend and teacher between

 

Each role gives purpose

Brings responsibility

Delivers sorrow 

Causes growth

Provides joy

Creates life

 

 I look ahead

The future unseen

New roles yet to come

Hopeful to embrace each one

Through smiles, laughter, or tears

And continue down this path to becoming me

Songs and Faces

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I love the way one single song can bring a flood of memories to my mind.  I experience this phenomenon quite often.  The memory may be an event, a feeling, a person…today it was a specific group of people.

These particular individuals happen to be talented musicians. It was my privilege, playing music with them at many a Sunday service in times past.  Circumstances have changed, taking some of us in different directions, to different places. But there was something special about the time we worked together, rehearsing hours each week preparing for Sunday services.

I’ve been playing piano in church since I was a little girl.  We won’t do the math-trust me, that’s a long time! Having taken some time away to rest and refocus, I recently began playing again.  Though the rest was much needed, the return feels like a visit with an old friend.

That brings us to today.  Currently I participate in a traditional service-piano, organ, choir, orchestra.  However, this particular service was different, a beautiful combination of modern and traditional. One of the modern songs was “Great I Am.”

I was excited to see it on the set list. Hearing it at rehearsal last week was like a breath of fresh air and an encouraging memory all wrapped into one.

”I want to be near, near to your heart.  Loving the world and hating the dark.”

This morning as we sang those words, the memories flooding my mind were faces. How I miss those faces.  Although things are not the same, those experiences stay with me wherever the journey leads.  And I continue to discover just how much moments spent with this amazing group of people made a lasting impact on my life.

Instant Friends

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Have you ever experienced an instantaneous friendship?  You meet someone for the first time, yet it seems as if you’ve always known them?  That’s exactly what happened when I met Shannon.  Both of our husbands had new jobs which brought us to Liberal, KS.  She was the wife of a pastor and me the wife of a high school assistant principal.  We both had young children and were navigating a new place, far away from old friends and family.

If you’ve never been to Liberal, well…there is an actual edge of town. You can see nothing but fields for miles and miles in all directions. The town had a Walmart, a few restaurants, and a small shopping center.  We would drive an hour and a half to Garden City, KS just to eat at Applebees.  Needless to say, it was quite an adjustment for both families.

Our move to Liberal was the second big move we’d made in nine years of marriage.  Memories from previous moves brought images of tear-filled goodbyes with many dear friends.  Some of those goodbyes turned into lifelong friendships, but in that actual moment of leaving it felt like our world was falling apart.  As for me, the tears often continued as I adjusted and searched to figure out my place in a new location.  Looking back now I understand that those lonely times strengthened our marriage and brought our family closer together, but oh were they hard.

Soon after we settled in our new home, I heard an advertisement on the radio for a MOPs (Moms of Preschoolers) group meeting.  I’d never been to one of these before but was excited at the prospect of meeting other moms with small children.  There was also a weekly storytime at the library.  My two oldest would be starting school soon, so that would give Ryan (my youngest) and I a fun outing.

It’s funny looking back now, I can’t remember if I first met Shannon at the library or MOPs.  I definitely noticed her at both events with her young kids.  She had such a welcoming smile, maybe we would become friends!  We introduced ourselves, and it wasn’t long before we had traded phone numbers.  At least now there would be a familiar face at storytime and our MOPs meetings.

Not long after school started, Shannon asked if I’d like to go for a walk after we dropped our older kids off at school.  Our youngest kids were the same age, and still enjoyed short stroller rides.  That first walk remains etched in my memory.  We chatted about our families, what had brought us to Liberal, our future plans.  And then Shannon shared the most amazing thing.  From the time they knew they would be moving, she had been praying that God would send her a friend.  I will never forget her words, “I think you just might be the answer to my prayers.”

From that point on, we were inseparable.  Playdates, family dinners, babysitting for eachother…things all young moms desperately need. I’m not sure how I would have survived that year without her.  It felt like we had known each other our entire lives.  She would even laugh and say she must have named her daughter Kelli after me before she even knew me.  And to make the year even more exciting, she soon discovered they were expecting their third child!  So much to plan and celebrate!

Telling Shannon that we would be moving back to Oklahoma for the following school year was not easy.  I dreaded making that phone call.  We were in Oklahoma for the interview and she was in Kansas, having just given birth to their sweet baby.  Terrible timing, but I knew it couldn’t wait.  Always gracious, she understood.  Moving would eventually be part of their future as well.  There were tears and promises to keep in touch.  Despite having experienced this kind of goodbye with friends before-it was not any easier.

Although Shannon and I had become close friends in such a short time, I had no idea the lasting impact she would have on my life. After our move, there were regular phone calls in those first months and even a visit despite the distance between us.  But our communications quickly took a different tone as Shannon was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer.

How could this be possible?  A young mom of three, healthy, no family history…the wife of a pastor.  She fought so hard.  Surgery, treatments, more surgery…and so many prayers.  I witnessed the outpouring of support from their family and friends past and present.  There were also a few misguided individuals who thought if her faith was just strong enough, she would be healed.  Most certainly they did not truly know Shannon.

If ever there was a time in life where I questioned my own faith, this was it.

I had the privilege of spending a week with Shannon and her family shortly before she died.  Oh, my sweet friend-fighting with courage and grace I had never witnessed before. Her cancer had spread once again causing tremendous pain and weakness.  But she was determined we would go shopping, and we did.  She had also planned an outing for us at a lovely tea room, and we went.  I watched as she pushed through, insisting on serving dinner and giving attention to her family-she loved them so much.

Shannon’s kindness as a friend, patience as a mom, and her unwavering faith in the face of terrible tragedy continues to impact my life. We may have only lived in the same town for one year, fifteen years ago, but I miss her.  The grief that she is not here with her family remains.  I keep a picture of the two of us on a shelf in my closet.  When I look at this sweet photo, I think about the power and importance of friends.  And remembering our instantaneous friendship, I am grateful.

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The Space Between Happy and Sad

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Have you ever experienced happiness and sadness simultaneously? All mixed together, each emotion fighting for control.  I’m not sure I can adequately explain this dilemma.  Writing the words down on paper provides little clarity, as I continue to inch back and forth between these two emotions.

We finally had contact with our friend Marie!  Her new home is not close to us, and her foster mom graciously offered to meet us for lunch.  Rachel and I were so happy to see her!  After seeing her regularly over the past year, this would be our first visit in two months.  There had only been one phone conversation.  I understood.   Adjusting to a new home, especially after all the trauma she has suffered, is difficult, and I wanted her to have the time she needed.

As soon as Marie saw us she hugged us and asked, “Did you miss me?”  Oh, sweet girl!  Seeing her smiling and joking with her foster mom brought great relief.  They have obviously bonded, and she is being well cared for.  When it was time to order drinks her mom asked if she wanted lemonade.  I smiled…lemonade is her favorite.

We enjoyed chatting and laughing over lunch.  Looking through the photo album Rachel and I made for her brought smiles and happy memories from this past year.  So why did feelings of sadness start creeping in when it was time to say goodbye?  I fought back my tears, not wanting Marie to think something was wrong.  And trust me, she would notice.

Where did our visit leave me?  Somewhere between happy and sad, inching my way back to happy.  This sweet child has been through so much, but now she is living in a home with a family.  For that I am thankful.  My role in her life will continue to change, and that is ok.  Yesterday I was teacher and advocate.  Today I am a friend.  And that is something we all need…always.

Marie called this evening.  We talked about the week, her new school, friends, and family.  The conversation was a happy one.  But oh her questions…”Do you miss me?  Will you see me tomorrow?” As our phone call ended, once again I found myself in that space between happy and sad.  Somehow I kept my tears at bay, realizing it would be selfish of me to allow the sadness to win.  At this moment, the reasons for happiness where Marie is concerned far outweigh the sad.

First Day of School

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Alarm goes off–the moon is still awake

Coffee?  Yes, please!

Today a new school year begins

Morning greetings–nervous smiles

Faces–old and new

Parents–grandparents–siblings

Hugs–goodbyes–tears

Teachers–students–classes–routines

Lunch–recess–specials

First day of school–soooo loooong

Tired feet–happy heart–sleepyhead

See you tomorrow…

School year number ten

Face to Face with Child Abuse: Personal Reflections of a Teacher

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My first experiences with child abuse stem from my years as a special education teacher.  I served students who had difficulty communicating.  The following reflections relate to one particular student who holds a special place in my heart.  Due to the need for privacy,  I will refer to her as Marie.  Not a day passes without thoughts of Marie. Feelings of sadness for her past, uncertainty for her present, but also hope for her future.  Her story has both broken and challenged my heart.

***

Words are powerful.  Even more so the images that accompany them.  Consider the word shelter.  For many of us, this word reminds us of safety and home.  Adding emergency brings much different imagery.  One final word moves us even further from protective pictures of safe and home… children.

Before my first visit to the shelter, my imagination created images in preparation for the experience of a clean building, professional staff, play areas, a visiting room.  The scene played out as follows.  A greeting from a smiling worker.  An onsite visit in a comfortable seating area.  After all, this facility provided care for children who had experienced trauma.

When map quest directed me to turn down a gravel road blocked by an iron gate, my previous notions of what the day would bring faded.  A quick phone call put me back on track, giving two guiding landmarks.  Passing the second landmark, I noticed an older, run-down, unassuming house.  This could not be the right place.  Private Property and Video Surveillance signs posted in the driveway prompted feelings of nervousness and uncertainty.

Taking a deep breath, I walked to the door, spoke to the cat on the porch, and rang the bell.  A calm, quiet proprietor answered.  Precious Marie stood nervously at the back of the house.  Initially, she was unsure and did not seem to recognize me.  After seeing photos from when she was in my class, one a selfie of us on the playground, she smiled. You were my teacher!  Yes!  She did remember.  Uncertainties quickly turned to smiles, hugs, and laughter.

My visions of a visit to the home vanished as I spotted her backpack on the table.  My young friend was ready to go!  Now there were completely different reasons to be nervous.  Where would we go?   The area was unfamiliar to me, but we could find shopping and food!  A trip to Walmart produced a doll, nail polish, and a new outfit.  We had lunch and painted nails while sitting at a local fast-food restaurant.  Looking at old pictures and taking silly selfies helped us to get reacquainted.  Returning to the shelter, I reassured her that I would visit again soon.

As I drove home, my earlier thoughts of shelter shifted from place to person.  Safety and security in my life came from the people placed along my path.  Now I had the opportunity to provide this for Marie.  I know she is not my child, but this new focus gives me courage for future visits. 

***

My daughter Rachel attends college, studying to become a special education teacher. She accompanied me on my second visit. Her presence provided calm and confidence. 

Our day was well planned.  After checking in at the shelter and signing out our young friend, we were ready to go.  First stop the zoo, then lunch, and finally shopping. I am not sure who was more excited about this outing!

I have witnessed Rachel interact with friends who happen to have disabilities on many occasions.  She treats them as peers, spends time with them socially, and has typical conversations.  She is also a passionate advocate for these special friends, always looking for ways to help them realize their potential. 

This particular day proved no different.  She embraced this precious girl with love and patience, looking for ways to give her independence and choices.  In instances where I would have made suggestions for Marie, Rachel recognized the importance of Marie having control over as many things as she could handle.  Following the zoo map, choosing what animal to see next, ordering pizza, and picking out sunglasses might seem insignificant. 

Although it was easier for me to visit the shelter this time, it was much harder for me to leave…

Rachel and I chatted on the drive home, recounting all the experiences of the day.  What a beautiful day!  We talked about the future,  what it will hold for Marie and what role we might play.  When I began to feel overwhelmed with questions about what lies ahead, Rachel calmly reviewed the events of these pasts few months. She reminded me of the circumstance that brought us to this day; receiving a subpoena to testify at a child neglect reliability hearing.

One step at a time, words of wisdom from my daughter as we headed home.  And a reminder when friends and family say Rachel takes after me,  the truth is I want to be more like her when I grow up…

***

Do you enjoy being alone?  I must admit I do not.  Although necessary at times, it is not a state I would often choose.  Others in my family seem to relish alone times, focusing on their particular interests.  Now consider the word isolation-it provokes a sense of being forced to be alone, having no control over our circumstances-an unpleasant solitude.

What if you were intentionally left alone without the warmth of human companionship?  Feelings of abandonment seeping in slowly.  Dwelling on these thoughts makes me sad and angry. 

A social worker visited our home for an assessment to determine if she would be allowed to visit…proceeding with caution.  Her love and care for this sweet girl were evident.  Although she knows terrible things from the past, she chooses to hope for the future. Most of our conversation stayed in that realm, thankful for current shelter, safety, and happiness.  Until she mentioned a fear of being alone in a room with the door closed.

My knowledge of the abuse suffered involved physical harm, and those incidences were over four years ago.  I had not allowed myself to think about what happened in the years following.  But now I heard this word-isolation-bringing a completely different understanding of what she had endured.  Imagine having the scars from being physically harmed, but also from intentional separation. Withholding the most basic human needs. We are talking about a child with intellectual disabilities, helpless to escape the cruelty imposed upon her.

I am not sure how to process this information.  If that is my reaction, imagine the difficulty for Marie.  There is no comparison, and at this moment, no sufficient answers.

***

When I consider my own children, the thought of them suffering or experiencing any kind of trauma is unbearable.  I want to be the best parent I can be.  Parenting is hard, bringing many responsibilities and challenges.  But it also produces rewards.  For example, hearing them call me mom is music to my ears.

One of the most thoughtful gifts I received from my husband was a sound wave print of my children saying, Mom. Hanging on the wall in our home makes me smile.  Am I a perfect mother?  Of course not!  But my children know they are loved.  My heart aches when they’re hurting and soars when they’re content.  The job of a mother is to love and protect.  That need is present from the moment a baby enters this world.  What happens when love and protection are replaced by isolation and abuse?  The results are devastating, creating lasting memories and trauma hard to overcome.

My mom is mean is not a phrase you hear every day.  Yes, I know kids sometimes exaggerate and say things that are not true.  Is it possible my own children thought I was mean at some point?  Oh yes.  I have even used the words mean-mama voice when talking about discipline.  I will think twice about using those words again.

Tonight I was talking on the phone with Marie.  She has temporarily moved from the shelter she called home to a behavioral assistance facility.  Rachel and I have been visiting her twice a week, and she calls us almost every night.  Our visits consist of coloring, games, reading her stories, looking at pictures, and laughter.  Phone calls are difficult. It is often hard to understand her. And the whole process is made more difficult by her disability.

Some moments, however, are crystal clear-tonight was one of those times.

Marie told me her counselor came today. She said they talked about her mom.  I was caught off guard at first, not sure what she would say.  And then the words came, my mom is mean.  She went on to recall how her mom would hit her at their house.  Hearing a child say their parent hurt them…I know she said more, but her words started to blur.  The truth is, I already knew her words were not an exaggeration.  I saw the bruises when she was younger, asked her what happened. I heard her say, my mama. I filed the abuse reports.  Then the family moved, and the abuse continued.  The abuse continued for four more years.

How was I supposed to respond?  The only thing I could say was, I am so sorry-moms are not supposed to act that way.  My heart hurts.  Words are not enough.  We will continue to visit, encourage her to talk about the hard things, and hopefully show her what it means to love.
Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. I Corinthians 13:7

***

Where does this story begin?  Each time I think about the answer, I find myself unable to choose just one point in time.  The decision to become a special education teacher, the first time I met Marie, filing the first DHS report.  These events culminate with this one story which has changed my life forever.

Many of my memories associated with Marie are sad, the kind of memories I would rather bury.  Before receiving the subpoena to testify at the reliability hearing, I had blocked specific events.  Four years had passed since she was my student.  And though I would never forget her, some things were just too hard to remember.  Until the day it became necessary to remember.

My heart sank at first sight of the word subpoena in my school mailbox.  There was no question who the notice concerned.  I followed the instructions on the letter and soon received an email filled with documents. Uncontrollable tears came as I read my own words from the reports I had filed.  And with them, the images I had worked so hard to bury.

I read, re-read, reviewed, made notes, whatever was needed to prepare for this hearing.  My testimony, if accepted by the judge, would provide a voice for Marie.  I was naïve in my hope for a settlement after the initial hearing.  That was not the case.  A trial date was set, and I would need to testify once again.

And so my reviewing continued, this time for the trial.  Sleepless nights, floods of unpleasant memories, and tears filled the space leading up to that day.  We have all watched courtroom scenes, real and fictional on television.  None of those could prepare me for the reality of testifying.  Being sworn in, sitting next to a judge, the jury on one side and the mother on the other.  A surreal experience.

My testimony provided details of events that happened years earlier.  Speaking with clarity and emotion, I remained strong in the face of a cross-examination which attempted to discredit everything I said.  Some images will never be erased from my memory. I made sure everyone in the courtroom understood that truth as I testified through my tears.  A tremendous weight accompanied this responsibility to speak for this one who could not speak for herself.

Relief, after the trial ended, was short-lived and replaced by concern for Marie.  Where was she?  Was she ok?  I knew I had to see her if at all possible.  Would she remember me?

My first visit to that shelter was just the beginning. My family spent the following year investing in this precious girl.  Phone calls, visits, birthdays, and holidays helped make sure she knew someone loved her.  Circumstances have recently changed with a foster home placement, and now I must let go.  I miss her.

***

Why is letting go so hard?  I remember the day we dropped off our son Robert at college.  I cried the entire drive there and back.  Two years later, it was Rachel’s turn.  It was still difficult to leave her in that tiny dorm room alone.  One more year until Ryan graduates, my baby.  Trying not to think about that just yet.

Today brings a different kind of letting go.  I had to let go of someone who was never my child but had found a lasting place in my heart.  Part of me wanted to be her mom.

Accepting that our family is not the final answer for Marie has been difficult.  Recently someone said to me, do you think your family could provide something another family could not. That stung, but it was what I needed to hear.  Suddenly the words letting go began invading my thoughts.  And then it hit me-maybe our purpose had simply been to provide love and friendship during a year of confusion, fear, and uncertainty.  And that was ok.

How appropriate that one year after that first visit, I receive word of foster home placement. Today some of my tears are selfish because I will miss her, but most are grateful-grateful for caring foster parents and a fresh start for our precious friend. 

***

The ending of this story is not clear.  As I patiently wait to hear how my sweet friend is doing in her new home, there is much reflection.  Our time spent with her this past year challenged us and brought us closer together as a family.  We love her, and I believe she loves us, even if we were not meant to be her family.

Marie made us laugh with her questions. Why are you so bossy? Directed toward my husband.  You almost married? Multiple times to my oldest children.  Why you so big? to my six-foot-three youngest son.  She brought tears to our eyes when she thanked us for singing happy birthday to her, telling each of us how pretty we sang.  And left us forever humbled by the way she trusted us…

In our last conversation, Marie mentioned the idea of moving to a foster home.  Her social worker had been preparing her for this possibility.  I asked her if she felt ok about that.  She smiled nervously and said yes.  There was a long pause and then her precious words, but I miss you.

Honey, I will miss you, too.  Always remember, what are we?

My friends.

Yes, sweet girl…always.