Goodbye. I am really starting to hate that word. After saying “Goodbye” to my mom forever and saying “Goodbye” to my oldest child as he enters a new chapter in his life away at school, my heart aches. I have said “Goodbye” to four foster children that I have loved. Even when our time together was short. It hurt. I have watched my kids say “Goodbye” to their foster brother and sisters. I have watched them say “Goodbye” to their foster mothers and fathers. It hurt.
Today was meant to be different. It was meant to be all about reconnections. I cannot emphasis the importance of this. If you parent a child who has suffered adoption loss in any way or form, please, maintain one positive connection on their behalf. Please, find one teacher, one caregiver and if at all possible one relative in which they can connect.
Sometimes, us (I do it too), foster parents freak out about our kids’ pasts. It can be terrifying to think that they have memories that don’t include you. It scares the crap out of me. What if they have great memories? What if I can’t compete? What if….
Well, I am here to say “STOP”! They deserve better and you do too. You may never be a part of their past memories but you can create new ones. (Remember that time, I talked all night with dad about my former foster brother and how we played chess and I missed that. Remember that is why, he started playing it with me). So, mute the anxiety button and reach out. It’s okay.
My middle son has one special teacher that we were blessed to visit and maintain contact. (Click here to read about C’s Reconnections) There is something remarkable that happens when a child learns that not all roots were severed and that he has links, special links to his history. Having these connections provides my son with validation that his story mattered and that he was not forgotten. He was and is important. Thank you Mrs. T, for being you!
Today, I was able to provide this gift to my daughters from hard places. Today, F and E were able to revisit a part of their past. It was wonderful and sad all at the same time. Today, their former foster family came for lunch. While Sloppy Joes filled their bellies and lemonade quenched their thirst, their souls were nourished in another way.
We gathered around the kitchen table as stories were shared, laughter boomed and tears rolled. Pictures were passed, memories were recalled and the definition of extended family took on a whole new meaning.
Seeing my daughters with their foster sisters reminded me of the special role that woman play in each other’s lives. It defined the connections that we make out of love and not out of biology. It melted my heart. It, also, panged my heart. My eye caught my youngest daughter B’s reaction. Her quietness told me something was not right. It dawned on me how much she misses R, her foster daughter that had left us. It has been over three years and yet the pain is still there. It is raw. (Click here to read about R) There is just something about sisterhood that cannot be denied.
I will continue to nurture B’s heart. I will continue to keep the connections alive for my trauma survivors. Most of all, I will never take sisterhood for granted. God blessed me with an amazing sister through birth, a bunch of awesome sisters thru marriage, several trauma mamma sisters and medical mamma sisters. I cherish each of you.
