Happy Halloween

What would you do if you knew you only had one month with the people you love?  How about one week?  Would you pack in as many activities as physically possible, all the things you dreamed of doing together?  Would you clear your calendar, forgo the cleaning, and just be?

The month we thought we had with the kids has turned into 3 days.  What do I do with 3 days?  Three days isn’t enough time to tie up all the loose ends.  It isn’t enough time to take that last trip I was planning.  And it isn’t enough time to fall apart.

Today is our second to last day with our youngest love, and we are celebrating Halloween.  I ordered sibling costumes for the kids with the thought that Halloween was going to be the last big event, the last big memory we’d have with them.  And in the back of my mind, I hoped it could be a day that might stick with them for a while, a happy day that could sustain them through a few hard days of change.  They were going to be Snow White and Happy, one of the seven dwarves that matched the youngest’s personality.

Unfortunately, the costumes are taking the scenic route through the mail and probably won’t arrive for another week.  Fortunately, my mom went out last night and returned with matching costumes (I genuinely believe she has some otherworldly, magical thrifting powers).  And so we are celebrating Halloween 3 weeks early, and it’ll be our last event with this unit of 5.

When your days are numbered, priorities start shifting.  You still get up and do those unglorified necessities- go to work, change diapers, sleep.  You do them, but you do them with more awareness.  Your eyes are open wider to capture what the ordinary things look like the last time you do them.  You listen harder to memorize the tone of their cry, so in the weeks to come, you won’t turn around at every child’s scream in the grocery store.  You sigh more, smile more, and care about everything else a little less.

I’d say this is what it’s like to be a foster parent, but honestly, this is what it’s like to be human.  We all love.  We all experience pain and uncertainty, and we’ve all had something that has threatened to destroy our faith and tear us asunder.  This placement has probably challenged my faith unlike anything else, but I’m sure we could all look back and pinpoint circumstances that led to a faith crisis.  It’s what you do afterward that really matters.  The battle isn’t over.  Loving was the easy part: life after goodbye is the true battlefield.