Rainy and cold outside, roaring fire in the woodstove and a hot cup of coffee. Its as if the weather is determined to not let us move on from the dark days of winter. Not wanting us to forget what we have gone through.
As the school year rolls to an end, I find it hard to believe that it was 9 short months ago that our world was turned upside down. It feels like a lifetime has passed since those dark days of September. September 27th, to be exact. The date will forever be branded in my memory. A fairly normal Sunday; church service followed by baked potatoes and lounging around. The only distinction on this day was the fact that we had our niece with us.
"H" had been with us for about 6 weeks. David and I had picked her up on our way home from a blissful pre-anniversary weekend away. Her family desperately needed time apart from her as they figured out a plan for her long-term care. In respect for her privacy I will only say that her behavior at home had caused them to know without a doubt that she could no longer live at home. David and I agreed to take her home with us for a while as they sorted out their options.
In retrospect, it was the wrong decision. But it seemed at the time like we were the only alternative. Their only other available option would have been to involve the authorities. *I have to stop here and just say that it is HEARTBREAKING when families are forced to involve the authorities for lack of other resources!*
The first few weeks went fairly well. H wasn't too offensive towards us, intense and 'in your face', but not violent or disrespectful. She seemed to bond well with our "A". They had similar backgrounds and seemed to find a commonality there. We were watchful, but tried not to hover over them as they spent hours on end talking in A's bedroom. It was sweet that A had finally found a friend. In the 6 years that she had been with us, we had not seen her become close to anyone but her sisters.
A had struggled over the years to trust us, never really forming a strong bond. Some would even say that she showed signs of Attachment Disorder, but we had seen growth and held out hope for a better relationship with her. There had been desperate times, for sure. Tearful times where we wondered if things would ever turn around. We were frustrated that she required a different form of parenting. That she didn't have to be respectful to us, while the other children did. There was no discipline that worked with her. How could I force a child nearly my own size to go in her room if she didn't want to-or do ANYTHING for that matter? As her actions were mostly directed at me, David tried to support me as much as he could. For him, she was an angel. Always willingly offering hugs or a helping hand. It was infuriating for me!! How could he help but wonder if some of my hysterics were not just a lack of patience or understanding on my part? It certainly looked to him like she was a fairly pleasant child. I warned him that she was just manipulating him and trying to gain control over us by dividing us against each other. He understood, and we were careful to never disagree in front of her. Still, she was good at it and we were challenged to dig deep in our relationship, trusting enough to back the other up. We had been through issues before with some of our other children, but never to this degree.
She had made progress, though. We had seen hints of trust, signs that she was letting go of her need to control, allowing herself acknowledge that she had value. Whispers that she was letting our love find a home in her heart. But did I love her? Sometimes. I wanted to. She had some very amazing qualities. A tender and compassionate heart buried beneath a load of pain. I loved that. I loved the flicker of sweetness that bubbled to the surface now and again. It was just so hard to hang onto when every time we had a tender moment it was quickly doused by the ugly, defiant child on the outside.
I tried not to ask myself the fearful questions that crippled me but they were relentless, "Where will we be in 5 or 10 years?", " Has anything really changed?", " What is she teaching the younger boys by her behavior?", "Will this be the child that will never be able to leave home?" These questions are a prison cell for the mothers heart. Confining my heart and binding my ability to love, eating away at the claim I had laid on my child!
Complicating factors even more was the fact that A could not learn. She was charming and engaging in social settings but could not retain information. At 15 years old, she still could not read past a second grade level, tell time, or really grasp the what numbers represented. Her memory had been stifled by Post Traumatic Stress, which made processing the events very challenging!
All of this played a part in her lack of meaningful friendships. So when we took her cousin for respite care, we were happy that she had finally begun to form a friendship.
Little did we know how damaging that friendship would become.
Hope you stay tuned...
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