It has taken me 22 days to write about this. Every time I thought about what I was going to write, I got hung up on the word "home." When people ask if we still have Junior, I get stuck when I say where he went. Junior went home? No..Junior didn't go home. He WAS home. Our home was his home. His dad's apartment was where he visited on a weekly basis. To answer people's inquiries I generally just mumbled something like "he went to live with his dad permanently.." and trailed off. What else can I say? We would have kept him forever if that was an option. It wasn't.
My heart and my head are still trying to sort out their differences in regards to Junior leaving. A friend of mine was talking about having to move when she goes to school and that she couldn't imagine a smaller place where she couldn't bring her huge dog with her. Coming home from work to that wagging tail and oh-my-gosh-I'm-so-excited-to-see-you of her dog is priceless. That's how I felt about Junior. Life without Junior? What does that even mean? No more going to pick him up from daycare where he'd yell "ELISSSSSAAAA!!!" with a big smile and launch himself into me to give me a hug? No more giggling tickling craziness? No more early mornings where he'd come bouncing into our room ready for a new day? No more Saturday adventures? Listening to him grow and learn and act like the precious kid he is?
It's so quiet now. Other than the irritating barking of my own dog when he gets a little crazy. For the longest time the noise in our home was stress-inducing craziness. One of the kids was always throwing a fit or getting in trouble for something. We loved them both so much, there's no question about that. However it was also quite clear that they did not do well together. Then Angel left. That was really hard. Truly, it was one of the worst ways a kid could leave our home. He has so much potential, but no one to give him a chance. As hard as it was for Angel to leave, the change in our home was incredible. Junior went through a short period of rough adjustment to Angel being gone, but once he settled in to the new routine and the new environment...wow. The noise in our home wasn't screaming and crying anymore. It wasn't fighting or arguing or whining...it was joy. It was laughter. It was the sounds of a little boy that was allowed to be a little boy. Loved and happy and free of the stress of the first 3 years of his life. I loved those sounds..
Now? It's quiet. I feel like there's a solid part of me that is off. Something seems empty. Roger and I are doing great things in our lives. Paying off debt, creating healthy habits, working hard, etc etc etc. And yet...where are the little arms that would give me big hugs while excitedly yelling "let's do a sandwich hug!"? Where's the little voice that would say "PORRRAAAAYYY!" when he was so excited to go cash in his stickers for froyo? Or the little guy that would giggle hysterically at his own joke while asking "Elisa, is that pilarious???" Where is that adorable, sometime-infuriating, precious, loveable, sweet little cuddlebug? He's at home. I'm not sure my heart loves "home"...
My head accepts "home." That's good, right? This is, after all, the point of fostering is it not? To reunite kids with their biological parents when they make great efforts to get them back? I won't get into the irony of the "biological parent" in this situation, however I cannot contest his efforts to get his kids back. Good job "bio"-dad. You did a pretty alright job of getting 2 of the 4 boys back. Honestly it's not so much about where Junior went that I am sad about. Rather it is more about where he is NOT.
My heart says he is not home...my head says he is. I trust that in time they'll come to an agreement.
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