Last week I opened a book to have some pictures fall out. They were pictures of a two year old little girl that we cared for for 18 months. She ultimately went to live with her grandmother and these were the first pictures we received after she left. It was hard. It was less hard when I saw them again this time, after six years. I have healed. The piece of my heart that went with her has since grown back. There is still a scar and there was still a tug at that old wound so many years later, but I healed and I am sure she has too.
Today, I opened up facebook to find some pictures of a couple of little darlings I fell in love with last year. It has been 9 months since I have caressed their cheeks or given them a hug. I am healing, but not yet healed. My heart skipped a beat and I miss them so much. My life goes on as does theirs. They have grown, they have changed, but the eyes are the same and the smile... oh, that smile. In this case a picture is not worth a thousand words. It makes me long to hear a laugh or a little bit of that sassy attitude that endeared me to them. It makes me want to touch them and scoop them up into my arms for a hug, but alas, it is not to be. I am glad for the chance to know that they are ok. That they are around family who loves them.
Why do I do this? Why do I put my family and my heart and myself through so much grief? Why do I deal with parents who hate me because I was the one who ended up caring for their child, when they could not? Why do I put up with inspections of my house and regular background checks? Why did I quit my job to stay home full time to meet the needs of these children? Why do I spend my energy and my money and my time to keep children who are not mine? Why do I give up a social life in exchange for children who need extra care, extra love, extra attention, extra supervision, extra parents? Why do I fall in love knowing full well my heart will be broken again and again?
I do this for them. I do this for you. I do this for our future, because these children come from hard places and some of them have very little chance to see functioning families. I want to show them, for one day or one week, or one month or one year, or for the rest of their childhoods, that life does go on and people can love you no matter what. I want them to see that love is an action, love is a sacrifice. Love is worth every moment you put into it. I do this because they have broken hearts too. They have lost something irreplaceable in there lives. I do this to help heal, for the time allotted, their little broken hearts. I listen to their tears and their screams, their hate and their fears. I cry with them and for them, because I just don't do things half way. I fall all the way in love with them and I help them limp until they can walk. Even then, their scars still feel that tug every once in a while, that tug of pain from the loss, even though they have healed. So babies, I am here. I will do my part. I will love you forever.
