Friday, June 6, 2014

Evil Socks

I was minding my own business: doing my nightly motherly routine.  Put the kids to bed.  Check.  Straighten up the house.  Check.  Find something else to do so I can give myself another check.  Check.

It is possible I may, perhaps, have a mild to do list fetish.  I love them.  They make me feel good inside.  If you are not a lister, you cannot understand this joy.  I shall write down "feel sorry for you" on my list.  Sorrow felt.  Check.

Feeling rather proud of myself, I sat down to fold laundry.  Almost all done.  About to give myself another check.  My last check of the night.  Thence was when I was accosted by these evil socks:

Evil socks.  I think they may have fangs.
Think they look harmless?  Look again.  Note the size.  They belong to our precious Mr. Apple Jack.  They somehow did not make it into the boxes when our 36 hour notice came.  I packed with a mental list - careful to send everything to his new home.  Check.

Now I have to take that mental check away.  But that is not why they are evil.  Their true vileness lies in their ability to make one cry.  Scratch that.  Not cry.  Sob uncontrollably.  The more I stared at these socks, the worse it got.  This was not pretty crying.  I'm talking my shirt was wet and snot was everywhere.

I'd pull it together then start back up again.  Patrick, my dear husband.  Bless his heart.  I don't think he quite knew what to think.  Good gravy, it's a good thing the kids were asleep.

These socks had unleashed tears I did not know I had.  Tears I thought I had already cried.  I realized I was mourning for a lost child, the same as if he had died.  

Yes, yes, I know he is not dead.  In fact, he is placed with relatives not far from us.  We feel good about this placement.  They seem to truly love him.  However, the reality for us is we will likely never see him again.

When we said our goodbyes, our prayer was for him to choose Jesus.  Even though he is gone from us, we have the hope of meeting him again in Heaven.  Someday we will hug again.  His laugh will ring in my ears once more.  I will see his eyes crinkle shut as he smiles.

Since beginning this road with our family, many have expressed their fears about us getting hurt.  Very valid concerns.  We have been hurt.  Fostering is crazy hard stuff.  But we are not alone in our sorrow:


God has called us to it.  It is worth every tear.  We would do it all over again to ensure that our Mr. Apple Jack was safe.
 
But I do hate those evil socks.