Today I have one moving out and one moving in.
The one moving on is the one that pushed me to the Tipping Point, the one that I had for Respite and fell in love with, the one that has finally made a decision for himself for maybe the first time in 19 years, and has decided to move out. I'm not crazy about how he did it, and I'm worried sick for where he will be in 2 months. But, at least he's making a decision for himself, and (for right now) feels really good about it.
I've had him since February, and the perseverance it has taken to let him know that he is wanted and loved and respected is exhausting. I can't tell you how many times we've had soul wrenching chats, where I think that all the plaque is flaking off, only to wake up the next morning and see that, actually, it's all still there. Which is ok. We start over. "Foster child, I'm not going away. I will still be here no matter what the problem is. I will still like you, and love you, and want you to be part of my family. You are part of my family." Over and over. And I don't think he believes it. I don't know if he can believe it. But I mean it with my complete being.
So last night he calls me from the place he hangs out, and I tell him he has an appointment today with his case worker, and I remind him he needs to move his stuff out of the bedroom. And I can hear in his voice that that tidbit went in one ear and out the other. So I say it again. "I need you to come clean and pack your room. There's another kid coming in, so I need you to plan on being here all day on Friday to take care of it." His response: "Well, do you have boxes yet?" At the same time I am pulling my hair out, I totally love the teenage sense of entitlement. Part of me wants to scream, "No! You are ditching my family in a yucky way. You don't call, you won't tell me where you are living, you break agreements, you blow me off. And you expect me to have boxes for you? Nuh uh, buddy. Figure it out yourself!" The other part of me just wants to hug him really really close.
I hope this isn't the last I see of him. I hope he comes by to do his laundry, to have dinner once in a while, to borrow some money, or just for a hug.
1 comment:
You sound like the most amazing person! Midwife! Foster mom!!!!
The amount of love you offer is humbling.
Post a Comment