My heart has been racing all day. “Find a way to move forward,” she told me. How can I do that when my heart lies in the past? “Look to a time when your children are grown out of the system, and need someone to be there for them.”
Why would they want me? As far as the government is concerned, I am nothing to my children. Why would they mention me? What am I to them?
“You will have to reach out to them,” she said. “They will have no one in their lives then.”
But that is not true. I know that is not true. “The foster parents who have the one girl are good at this. They are good at being social, and talking to people, and dealing with the ministry. They are good at life. Why would the children want me, when I am none of that?”
“Well then, let them go, and move on,” she says, and I cry.
I can’t let them go. I can’t turn away. I want them with me so bad it hurts – but I am not good at this. Understand, I am not good at this, and tell me… Why would they want me?
I can’t go back, though I battle that continuously. I can’t think of them as someone else’s children, when in my heart – no matter how hard I try – I have claimed them as my own.
I wish them every happiness, and if that means they have to be somewhere else… it breaks my heart. Truly it crushes me.
In my brokenness, what have I to offer them? “This is just a rough patch,” my counselor tells me. But that rough patch has encompassed my entire life to this point – do you see that? How can I trust that this “rough patch” will end, when it never has before?
Do I want them in my life? Absolutely – with every fiber of my being! They are my children… to me, they are. But what have I to offer them? Why would they want me?
Can I let them go? Never. My love for them, and my pain and regret over losing them will last my entire life. I know this. I know myself enough to know the truth in this. While others may forget, or find a way to move on, I never could. I never could.
He had the courage, that boy of mine, to come up to us after 5.5 years and introduce himself. “Do you remember me?” he asked, as if I could ever forget. As if I hadn’t searched every face for him for over 5 years.
And it was his courage that fed me today as I hovered over his Facebook page, fearing rejection, fearing that I had nothing to offer him, fearing the pain of losing him again.
Don’t let the fear
of what could happen
make nothin happen.
And so I sent him a friend request – this boy of mine, who isn’t mine anymore, yet remains…
And he accepted.