Summer of No Return Part 1

How to be a Hero!

After the twins left, my mom took a vacation and spent a month traveling with her mom in Montana and Oklahoma. During this time, I got two more boys in care, who we will call Tim and Carl. These boys were older, 6 and 9, and I'm not sure I was prepared for that. The babies were easy to get used to, they were babies. These were older brothers who already had a lifetime of experience to make them who they were. They had developed a sibling relationship, and I was an intruder in their life.

I had to put them in daycare during the day because my mom was not there to watch them. They enjoyed that because they got to go on field trips, and be with a lot of other kids their own age. We'd get home after work, and I didn't know what to do with them. You have to remember, I'd never raised any kids before, and had no experience with the day to day of school age children. And these boys fought all the time. They fought over everything: the front seat in the car, who's baseball cap was who's, what to watch on tv, who touched who first...normal sibling stuff, but it was new to me as a parent. I was overwhelmed. I have siblings and while we were growing up we could fight with the best of them, but I never had to mediate or parent this behavior. And I didn't have the luxury of working up to this with them because they had not grown up in my home. I had Joe, who was in a routine, and he and I got along wonderfully. But Tim and Carl were a real challenge to me. I wanted my mommy!!!

Carl, the younger brother, once asked me why they were in foster care, and why they couldn't go home. Nobody had ever taught me how to deal with this emotion. (Still no training.) I didn't really know what to say to him because the reasons he and his brother were in care were vague. I tried to make it easy for him, I told him his parents had to work some things out, and until they did, they were having trouble being able to take care of him, so he was with me. He didn't really understand what I was saying to him. Honestly, I didn't know how to talk to a 6 year old, so poor Carl was stuck with a woman who couldn't seem to come down from a level of college academia! On top of that, he would tell me things his step-father had done to scare him, and I was appalled, didn't know how to react. I hadn't been told yet that I simply shouldn't react because I didn't want to make him feel bad about where he'd come from. Here we were, a woman with the wrong vocabulary, and a boy with life experience that far exceeded what any of us should ever experience.

One of my other challenges was needing to make meals every night. I have never proclaimed to be a cook, nor have I ever had the desire. And what kind of meals do young boys like anyway? Joe was easy, he was a baby. I was easy, I didn't always eat much at dinner. So I took Tim and Carl shopping for food. What I discovered was that they liked Hamburger Helper, Macaroni and Cheese, and other easy stuff like that. Kid food. I made a box of Hamburger Helper Lasagne one night, and Tim proclaimed that it was the best dinner he'd ever had. And he liked it even better the next night as leftovers. I was a hero.

I learned from these two guys that it doesn't take much to be a hero in a kid's eyes. I didn't do much more than give them a clean place to live with food on the table, and care about them. They didn't gush over me, but they felt comfortable and safe, and that's how I knew I'd done my job.

Tim and Carl only stayed with me for a month. In fact, the day mom came home was the day they left. She'd brought them some little drums and wooden flutes from her trip, and was able to give these gifts to the boys before they left. She was a hero. They loved the instruments, and they loved this woman they'd never met before for thinking of them.

She took a picture of them sitting on our front walk making music, and so started our picture wall. The picture was so telling that she also found one of Joe from when he first came, and she made 5x7's of each picture, framed them, and hung them in the hall. Since then, every child who has been with us for a month or more has had their picture hung in our hall. When Tim and Carl brought their mom over to meet us several months later, Granny (the name the kids had started calling my mom) showed them their picture, and they were proud to have it there. They are forever part of our hearts and home!

And again, we were down to just the two of us and little Joe. This second loss was just as hard for me emotional, but a bit smoother. I at least knew to expect it this time, and it was great when the boys came back to see me.

Tune in again to read tales about the adventures from the Angel Retreat.

Donations to fund the needs and activities for the angels who live with us are always welcome.