Theater of the Soul

Given recent events in my life, for a while, I was being dragged down by my own dark thoughts about the world and people in it. After several phone calls and emails today, I am once again reminded that there are angels out there. This is the second time this year that I’ve been touched by angels…you’d think that I wouldn’t let myself get dragged down again. But I did. I am imperfect…and so VERY humbled once again.

I’ll try to make sure that the lesson sticks this time. I love you all.

Touched By An Angel
by Maya Angelou

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love’s light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

I’m still around…just busier than a one-toothed man in a corn-on-the-cob eating contest. As if I’m not busy enough with the usual stuff, the universe has thrown more shit at me this week when I got the word that I may soon be partially unemployed. It seems that one of my clients is struggling to pay the mortgage on several of their investment properties. I’m not in panic-mode yet, but I reserve the right to start hyperventilating at a later date.

I was finally able to see the pseudo-nephews over the weekend. They’ve settled in to a good routine and seem to be holding their own. They’ve both gained weight (thank GOD) and are getting some color in their cheeks. The food isn’t anything to write home about apparently, but it’s more than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I met with the treatment team there and they are all optimistic that the boys can be helped. The biggest strike against them right now is that the pseudo-family is too busy covering their asses to actually help fix any of the damage. Pseudo-mother has flown the coop and moved out of the state. Pseudo-brother is trying desperately to give up his parental rights. And the mother to these kids has made another half-assed attempt at suicide and is in a mental hospital far from here. I’d like to err on the side of charity in her case, but truth be told, I’m fresh out of sympathy…having spent it all on her children.

Anyways, the outlook for the boys looks bright. They’re eager to please and responsive to positive attention…traits that will serve them well as they try to stuff all the knowledge that ‘normal’ 12 and 9 year olds have into their heads. They will likely be at the group home for 18-24 months; longer if they need it. For now, I’m limited to weekend visits there but will begin slowly transitioning them to day visits here at my home…then weekend visits…then longer stays. We finally explained to them my relationship to them and their father, so at least they now know I’m more than ‘the pretty lady who brings us presents’ but not quite their aunt. They seemed to take that information in stride. I brought pictures of my home and my kids with me and they are very excited to meet BooBoo and Monkeyboy next weekend.

The feeling is mutual…to a certain extent. My boys are excited about the pseudo-nephews, but I think they both lack a frame of reference for the whole situation. My boys both remember previous foster children I’ve had and so they understand the concept of me being a parent to children who aren’t really mine. They’re having trouble wrapping their brains around children that are so damaged that they can’t live HERE with us yet.

I’ll be spending the next few days preparing my own two kids for their first visit inside the walls of an actual treatment facility. We live in a very small area and as far as I know, there aren’t any REALLY mentally disabled kids in the schools, so my boys have no experience dealing with some of the behaviors that they’re likely to see next weekend. There is a Down’s Syndrome kid and another kid that has Cerebral Palsy (I think) that both LOVE to hug people. While this doesn’t bother me, I can see my 13 year old punching someone in the head if I don’t warn him ahead of time (Of course, the sarcastic part of my brain wonders if anyone on staff has ever thought to lock both kids in one room so they can hug on each other and everyone else can get some peace and quiet). Anyways, E will be accompanying us on this little adventure, just in case it’s too much for my kids…he can take them out to a miniature golf place down the road for a few hours.

It should be interesting.