The Past is Never Far Behind

They sneak in unexpectedly, in the flow of every day conversation: The reminders that some of my kids, before they came to our family and our home, suffered.

A conversation about what jobs we will do when we get home turns to something like, I used to be at the children house. We had no toys. They lock them up in a closet the toys that Americans bring so we can't touch them. 

Or the children are talking about not liking the current cold going being passed around the family, the coughing, the snot. And then I hear from the back seat ________ got sick and died. I never saw ____ again.

SMACK! It hits me again - that some of the kids in my car, smiling, decked in flip flops and sunscreen, ready for summer fun, have seen hunger, death, loss of the worst kind, neglect in institutions. They have felt the ultimate rejection, confusion and fear.

Sometimes at school I forget my pencil the teacher hit me.

At the children's home the guy in charge, we think he steal the clothes and sell them. American families bring new clothes, and then one day we wake up, they are gone. Sometimes we wear dirty clothes over and over, because we are afraid if we send them to laundry, a shirt we like, we will never see it again.

I not get to stay with my mom. 

The fear of not being worthy, loveable, the fear that maybe this, right here, this family, is somehow going to fail them as well is always there. The fear there isn't enough, the feeling that nothing is permanent. I don't know if it ever fully goes away.

Mom, you never hold me and rock like the babies. I want to go back so I can be carried like a baby. But I am too big. I... 

Then I say, You will never be too big for me to hold and hug you. I promise. You weren't in my belly. But you are still my baby.

me and misir blog

My poor babies.


Shannon said...

Picture and every word.

Sue said...

This is so familiar. I almost wrote a post exactly like it last night, but my heart couldn't do it. You did, thanks.

K said...

*sigh* And the heaviness we all carry. Will always carry.

The Lost Planetista said...

Oh!!!!!!!! :(

Vertical Mom said...

YES! Rock that beautiful baby! God is the God of second chances.

Sharon said...

Yes, I understand this. You're right, it is never far away.

findingmagnolia said...

Love to you and your hurting babies. Love, love, love.

Leslie said...

Yes, so true. We were watching The Princess Bride, and my daughter said she knew how Inigo Montoya because if she met the people who killed her father, she would feel the same way, wanting for them to die. Such painful reminders. Hugs.

Deborah said...

So many of these things are not even specific to orphanages, they're just facts of poverty. Very sad, though.

And I love that picture, love that you picked her up like a baby! She looks like she's bigger than you.

Cherie said...

You have a lifetime of loving to give your older girls, but they are so blessed to have the kind of mama that isn't brushing aside these things, but looking at angles, and ways that you can somehow glue together all the cracks that happened. I love the children's book (I Love you Forever) where the mama is rocking her baby, her son, then her teen, and even her adult, until she gets too old and the last pages of the book kills me when the adult comes back to rock his mama in her old age. These girls someday will wrap you in their arms and carry you after all the years you carry them. Keep it up S. You're beautiful!

Barb Aloot said...

I'm crying. You are an amazing mom, strong in so many ways. Hugs.