For those of you who can’t hear these wonderful stories and meet these friends in person, you can see a little of what you are missing here.

All I can say is how incredibly blessed I am to have precious people like this in my life. I’m so grateful we can share this journey together.

As the kids left my classroom for the very last time, I expected hugs and thank yous, declarations that they would miss me, and promises to come back and visit.  These are the things I pictured in my head anyway.  But when the final bell rung, none of that happened.  Instead, the kids screamed “summer!” and bolted out the door without looking back, ready to embrace their freedom.

That’s kind of how my good-bye with Samuel went down.  There was no more of a farewell than if I were dropping him off for an afternoon play date.  There was no looking back, and the only tears were my own—after I pulled the car out of the driveway and around the corner. 

The tears I cried were not tears of sadness.  They were really more of an emotional release, a way of me marking what I recognized as a significant moment—even if no one else did. 

It’s important for me to remember that I didn’t serve as Samuel’s foster parent for Samuel or even for other foster children out there.  It’s not because I want any kind of appreciation or gratitude.  I served as Samuel’s foster parent because it was what I was called to do, and it is my hope that answering that call glorified God in some small way.  That’s what it’s all about, and that’s what I try (though admittedly unsuccessfully at times) to live my life to do.

You may have noticed from the long hiatus I took in between my last post and this one that I will be blogging on a much less frequent basis.  I write about my adventures as a foster mom, so when I’m not a foster mom, it’s hard to find material.  There are a couple more posts left in me as I reflect on this experience, but I can’t predict when they will come out, so just stay tuned.

I can’t yet answer the questions of if or when I will foster again.  I don’t know yet.  My work schedule makes it impossible for me to foster from January-June 2011, so I plan to take at least a year off (from foster parenting, not from work—though don’t I wish?).  I am tempted to truly take a year to live comfortably and unchallenged, but I know that’s not what God called us to be.  Therefore, I am looking into several options to see what that next uncomfortable challenge is supposed to be.  There are lots of ways I can help foster kids without having them come live with me.  Maybe I will write about those adventures over the next year.  After all, even without a child in my direct care, I will forever remain Foster Mom.

I’ve never written about this before, but there have been few times in my life when I have encountered personal grief to the magnitude that I did when Hope and Faith went to live with their forever family. Keep in mind, that I KNEW I would still see them and have them in my life. Keep in mind that their parents are dear friends of mine, and I couldn’t possibly have had any more certainty that they were going to a wonderful home where they would be loved and cared for even more than they were with me. Even so, I grieved the loss.

People would approach me at church to congratulate me on the girls’ happily ever after family or ask how I was doing, and I would bolt to go cry in the bathroom. While shopping at Target I would see an adorable dress that was just Faith’s size or a toy I knew Hope would love and realize that people were staring because I had tears streaming down my face. It was embarrassing. I didn’t understand it. I can’t explain it. I was a mess, but I made it through.

When the girls went to live with their new parents, Hope and Faith’s mom asked me whether I thought it would be harder for me to live life with the girls or without them. I didn’t hesitate with my answer. I had already lived life without them for a lot of years, so of course that would be easier. But actually, one of the hardest things for me was to reprogram myself to live life without them. I would still leave work and drive toward Hope’s daycare some days. I would throw items into the cart at the grocery store for them because sometimes I would just forget. I imagine that a lot of parents who lose their children to tragedy or even those who become empty nesters share many of those same experiences.

If not for the assurances I described above, I can’t imagine how much harder it would have been.

Though it pains me to admit it, if I’m really honest, I was never as bonded and truly in love with Samuel in the same way I was with the girls. Maybe that’s because they were my first children.  Maybe that’s because he was a challenging 11 year-old boy who treated me pretty terribly at times (though one of the biggest reasons I became a foster parent was a challenging 11-year old boy who was one of my students years ago). Maybe that’s because I didn’t allow myself to become as attached, to protect my heart from enduring that kind of pain again. Or as Hope and Faith’s mom has told me several times, maybe it is God’s provision to protect Samuel and I both as His perfect plan unfolded. God didn’t intend for me to form a forever attachment with Samuel, nor he to me.

The constant contact I have with the girls won’t repeat itself with Samuel—and that’s OK. I found the words that appear on the CPS website in a letter from a typical foster family to a parent who has had their child removed by CPS are very fitting. The letter reads “We are your child’s foster parents and we will remain in your child’s life only as long as your child needs us. We will help your child deal with everyday life as easily as possible until your child goes home.”

I have to celebrate the fact that Samuel is going home. That’s where he wants to be the most. Who could blame him? I would want to be with my family too.

My desire is to do exactly what this letter says and remain in Samuel’s life as long as he needs me. I don’t want to force a connection in the future that neither he nor his family want. I don’t want to serve as a reminder of a time he might prefer to forget. That’s not what I signed up for. The purpose of this adventure was for me to help a kid who needed someone to shelter and love him for this season of his life. I did those things to the best of my ability. Should Samuel need me somewhere down the road, I think he knows I will always be here for him.

Samuel was surrounded by lots of folks here who care about him just as much as I do on Monday afternoon.  Lots of my family and friends, along with several new friends Samuel made along the way, as well as teachers and the principal from Samuel’s school all attended a send-off party in Samuel’s honor.  I can’t begin to express how grateful I am to have them walk along through this adventure beside me—to put their hearts on the line as well.  Now they must let go just as I do.

While there are certain aspects of “having my life back” that really appeal to me, I also realize that the “reprogramming process” will take some time again. I’ve grown accustomed to having him here, so I am sure there will still be a few instances when I walk into his room and forget he’s not there, or maybe I will buy something at the store because I am used to buying that item for Samuel. Letting go is never easy.  It wasn’t intended to be.

Tonight, we had a show-down in Wendy’s. I picked Samuel up from attending his younger sister’s birthday party, and we got a much later start home that I had planned, so we stopped along the way to eat. After dinner, he asked for a “moth” which I finally translated to “malt” and asked him if a “frosty” would do. He said yes.

But on the way to purchase the ice cream, it took multiple corrections to get him to mind his manners around all the other people, and I warned him that I wouldn’t be buying an ice cream if he didn’t mind. When I had to correct him a fourth time, he yelled loudly “oh my gosh!” So I told him there would be no frosty and that we were headed to the car.

The problem was, Samuel did not head to the car. Samuel was recalcitrant. He stood stubbornly at the rail in front of the cash register and told me he was going to have a frosty. I quietly and calmly explained to him that if he wanted a frosty, then he should have respectfully followed directions. There was no way on earth I was going to spend money on a frosty to reward his behavior. There wasn’t any yelling between either of us. We both calmly stated our version of what was about to happen, and I reminded him that he was the child and I was the parent. This back-and-forth went on for some time as we both dug in our heels.

It took a miracle, but I finally got him to the car, where he gave me the direction “don’t talk to me.” But unlike other stand-offs that Samuel and I have experienced, this one ended up with us locked in a car together for 30 minutes. There was nothing he could do to escape me. Samuel exploded in anger on the drive home, but ironically enough, that turned out to be a positive thing for our relationship.

Samuel screamed that he didn’t want to be in foster care and that his being in foster care was all my fault. Finally, we got to the heart of why he is always so angry at me. For whatever reason, the thing he has never verbalized to be before: he blames me for his being in the system.

It gave me the opportunity to tell him that I am not the reason he is in foster care. He demanded to know who was, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. I simply reiterated that I didn’t know him, his family, or anything about him when he was put into foster care. All I knew was that I got a phone call and was asked if an 11 year-old boy named Samuel could come live with me, and I said yes. I further went on to point out many of the things I do for him (despite his treating me the way that he does) and explained that I am not required to do those things, but I do them because I care about him and because I am trying my best to do right by him.

I told Samuel that while I don’t require him to love, or even like me, I do require that he respect me as his parent—even if I am only a ‘foster parent,’ and only for three more days at that. He quickly corrected me and spoke the words “I never said I don’t love you.”

There are over 460,000 children in foster care in America today. In Texas alone, there are over 25,000 children in care. Of that population, 30% are age 14 or older, which means that most of that 30% are very likely to age out of the system without ever being adopted by or reunited with a family.

While reunification is typically the first goal when a child is put into care, that only becomes a reality for less than one-third of the kids in foster care in Texas. Samuel’s experience of being reunited with a primary caregiver isn’t what happens for most kids in the system.

The Foster Care Awareness Month campaign has compiled an excellent list for anyone who may want to get involved in this crazy adventure with the intent to help the kids who need help the most. Click here to view the options on their Change a Lifetime menu. It gives you options for whatever time you have to give—whether that is minutes, hours, weeks, or more.

And while you may not have noticed before, I have quite a few links that remain active on this page all the time. They are mostly Austin and Texas based, as that’s what I know best, but there are a couple of national sites as well that could lead you to finding information on other states as well. If you want to learn more about what is required to be a foster or adoptive parent in Texas, you can click here. If you don’t feel that you are called to be a foster parent, there are still lots of ways you could help kids.

• Children in foster care need mentors in a big way—kids like Samuel who are boys and placed with single moms, and lots of other kids like him are waiting for someone like you to step up and spend some time with them. I hear foster children can serve as great cover for checking out the latest new kids’ movie.  My agency has a sign up for mentors and they never have enough.  There are lots of other great mentoring programs too.  More than I can list, yet never enough volunteers.
• Children in foster care need advocates, like a Court Appointed Special Advocate or (CASA) to speak on their behalf in court and make sure all the right decisions are made.
• Children in foster care need stuff. Organizations like the Partnerships for Children  and the Presbyterian Children’s Home and Services stock places like the Rainbow Room so that when children are first placed in care with only the clothes on their backs, caseworkers can pick up items like toothbrushes, pajamas, and a stuffed toy to make things a little more comfortable and a little less scary.
• Children in foster care (and their families—both biological and foster) need your prayers.  We need prayers that these kids will be able to beat the statistics and not end up homeless at 18, in prison, or worse.  We need prayers the these children would be loved and nurtured enough to overcome the obstacles in their paths.

There are so many ways you can help. There are so many kids who need your help.

The kids swam out to the floating dock in the middle of the lake. While standing on the dock, Samuel started yelling my name and pointing at the water. At first, I couldn’t tell if he was trying to tell me someone was drowning or what. Then I understood, when in addition to my name he started screaming “my glasses!” I’m not sure what he thought I was going to do about that standing on shore, but by the time I was able to understand what was happening, it was far too late to give the instruction “go get them!”

It’s funny how history repeats itself. In Samuel’s previous placement in foster care, his behavior went from bad to worse once he knew he was leaving. And just before he left their care, his glasses were broken. That’s why he came to me without glasses. Sadly, he will be leaving me that way as well. It takes five days to get his glasses, so with the Memorial Day Holiday, there is certainly no way he will get them in time. If I don’t order them on Tuesday, he won’t have insurance to pay for them though, so I plan to order them first thing Tuesday morning and have them delivered to his new home.

Samuel informed me today the he thinks a fish is probably wearing his glasses.  He might be right.

Once again, I visited the Hallmark store to select just the right card for this special occasion, and once again I was disappointed. Hallmark has about three different cards to congratulate parents on the adoption of a baby, or their “little one,” but nothing that is appropriate for the adoption of an older child.

The nice ladies in the Hallmark store went out of their way to try to help me find a card that would be suitable. They also told me that I should go to the Hallmark website and suggest the idea for a card (as well as my idea for a Mother’s Day card for foster moms).

So I went to the website. After some difficulty navigating my way through it, I was able to find a form to e-mail the company. I explained the need, said I knew they had adoption cards, but that they were for adopting a baby, and not suitable for other adoptions. I even added a statement about how much I know this company cares about its customers and knew that they probably just hadn’t thought of this need.

Hallmark sent me a generic response that simply reads “Although we are honored that you would think of Hallmark, we do not accept submissions of creative suggestions, ideas, notes, drawings, concepts or other information.”

However, I was undeterred. I sent another e-mail to the company that read something like this.

I would like to reopen my previous question #100526-000682.  Perhaps I took an approach that was too nice before by "suggesting" that you consider creating cards for older children who are adopted.  Since you don’t accept suggestions, please let me be clear: I would like to complain that Hallmark does not have cards that address this special circumstance.  I am not at all suggesting that you create such a card, but I am informing you that I will have to take my business elsewhere if you do not make such a card available.  Thank you very much for taking the time to read my complaint (which is not intended in any way to make a suggestion or give you an idea).

While I don’t regret saying yes to having Samuel come live with me, there are some things that through hindsight, I wish I would have done differently along the way. Those aren’t regrets though. Those were opportunities to learn. My regrets I can list as two things. These are the loose ends that I regretfully will not be able to tie up before Samuel leaves my care.

First, the letter Samuel wrote to the Department of Family and Protective Services back on March 2 never received a reply. We knew the rules wouldn’t be changed in time for him to jump on a trampoline as a foster child, but I at least thought they would write him back. In one week’s time Samuel will no longer be a foster child and he will be able to jump on a trampoline all he likes. I regret the lesson I fear he was taught through this experience—the system doesn’t care about you. I wanted him to feel empowered by at the very least having his voice heard, and that didn’t happen. I wish I had done more to press the issue on his behalf.

And second, the follow-up hearing test for Samuel is scheduled for June 16. Remember when we went to see a specialist back in February due to the hearing loss Samuel suffers in one ear? We were referred to a very specialized and wonderful hospital in the area for further and more in-depth tests, but when I received the call back in February to set up the follow-up, we were told the fist available appointment was on June 16.

Once I found out Samuel would be back with his family by then, I first tried to have the court order that his family will take him to the appointment. However, I have found out that the court can’t do that, and that the moment he leaves my care, he loses his state health insurance. It will be totally up to his grandmother to secure health insurance and take him to the appointment on the 16th at the hospital for a condition that she doesn’t think is that big of a deal.

I have been scrambling to plead Samuel’s case with the hospital and tried to call in some favors, but nothing can be done to push the appointment up. There is only one specialized audiologist serving our entire region who can perform this test, and they are currently booking appointments for this individual in December. There is literally nothing more that I can do other than pray Samuel’s grandmother follows through.

Samuel pulled one of his typical 11-year-old boy stunts and I called him on it and asked him to correct the situation. Samuel became angry and took off out the door.

He didn’t go terribly far away, but he would not come home. Twice I tried to talk to him and get him to return, but he would only take off running again. I explained to him that he could choose to return or else I would be forced to call the police to get him home safely. He simply yelled “fine!” over his shoulder as he took off again. For a split second, I considered tackling him and physically dragging him home kicking and screaming, but I ultimately decided that wasn’t the best course of action.

After he was gone for over 30 minutes, and it was good and dark out, I followed the standard operating procedures given to me by my agency, and I called the non emergency number for the police. I was connected with the Travis County Sherriff’s Department, and I honestly think it took longer for me to give them Samuel’s physical description than it did for the deputies to arrive. When they arrived, they already had Samuel in the back of the car! They picked him up in the parking lot of a convenience store nearby. The deputies opted to let him sit in the back of the car for a while until all the paperwork could be completed. They entered all the information from my driver’s license into the system, so I’m not sure if that means I have a “record” now or not.

Any time the sheriff or any other law enforcement agency picks up a child in this position, they of course have to ask the child if there is a reason why they ran away. They need to know if the child has been abused or has reason to fear harm from their caregivers. Want to hear Samuel’s complaint about me? The deputy pulled me aside to share that Samuel said he has trouble falling asleep at night because I talk too loudly on the phone after he has gone to bed.

The irony of Samuel’s complaint is that I usually take great pains to ensure that if I make a phone call after he has gone to bed, I do so from a location where I will not be overheard, such as the laundry room or back patio. Last night was an exception because I needed access to my laptop while I was on the phone to consult with a friend–about the invitation the party I am throwing for Samuel! It’s really laughable to me that when the sheriff picked him up that was the only complaint he could think to share.

Do I question my parenting abilities due to the fact that I had to call the Sheriff to bring my kid back home? Sure. It’s not the scenario I wanted for either one of us. However, this is a unique time in a very unique parenting situation. Just as the last week is the time with the graduating seniors pull all their pranks in high school, this is the time when Samuel is going to display all the extra special stunts he has been saving up for his last week as well.  I cannot allow the inmate to run the asylum, so I’m going to have to employ some extra special parenting techniques during this final week.

My hope now is that Samuel didn’t like the attention from the sheriff deputies so much that he attempts to leave again to make them come back!

His mother can’t see him, but she has unlimited phone access to him. When she does finally call him, he wants to talk to her as much as he can before she goes away again. Therefore, Samuel will go almost a month without talking to her at all and then have long conversations with her and constant contact for a couple of days. I try my best to respect and honor the relationship he has with his mom, although I find that really challenging at times.

I let him slide a little on reading and bedtime in order to have the conversation with his mother last night. I packed his lunch this morning and got everything else ready that he usually is responsible for so that he could make the quick call before he left for school. However, Samuel is simply angry with me when I do eventually have to force him to hang up the phone before he misses the bus or goes to bed any later than he already is. Heaven forbid that his mother should back me up on that and enforce things that are good for him.

But what makes my blood boil more than anything is listening to the promises she makes that Samuel actually believes. He so desperately wants to believe everything she says. And I can’t blame him for that. What kid wouldn’t? I wish I could protect him from having his heart broken all over again, but I can’t.

And in 10 short days, Samuel will no longer be in the temporary custody of the State of Texas (in foster care), but will be under the Permanent Managing Conservatorship of his grandmother. At that point, all the tiny pieces of protection the court has ordered for him, such as only phone access with his mother, will all be at his grandmother’s discretion. I pray that she chooses wisely.