A Melancholy Day and Foster Care

Ten years ago today my mother died.  I try to celebrate her birthday [which is in three days] rather than the anniversary of her death, but I can't seem to escape a moody melancholy as September creeps toward Sept 24 each year. Maybe if she had died three days AFTER her birthday it would be easier to keep the focus on the positive day.  Tonight I will go to a church meeting, not because I want to... I would rather not.  I would rather reread my mother's letters or go to her favorite restaurant, or something. But my mother was no stranger to church meetings that fell on days she wanted to do something else, so in a strange way it is fitting. Who knows.  I think about her and all that she gave me, taught me, showed me. I sometimes try not to think about her.  I try little tricks to distracts myself.  I try little acts to celebrate her.  I mourn her. 

I had a wonderful mother.  She had some habits for which she was teased, some of which she has handed down to me.  She had some habits which I admire and strive for, some of which I almost manage.  It makes me feel guilty sometimes that I have such good memories of my mother and father and yet as a foster parent I know how many children in this world do NOT have that wonderful bank of memories. I suppose some psychiatrist would guess that some of my push to caregive is connected, but I of course would say phooey.  Nonetheless, what are we to do [as a society] about all of these children.  These children who are growing up without a good role model of what a mother should be, or a father should be.  These children who mourn for a family they do not have, never did have, and yet want so desperately.  These children grow up... some of them.  Many of them grow up unsuccessfully.  The statistics about children who are homeless who have had contact with foster care are frightful.  The statistics about the percentage of incarcerated prisoners who were once in foster care is even more terrifying.  

Foster care is not as simple as having space to share in your home or even in your heart.  It is hard.  It does not come with guarantees of a good outcome.  But all around us there are children who have been robbed of a childhood, of a loving and caring family, who don't have a clue about unconditional love.  It is too big a problem for me to even wrap my head around.  Today I feel the loss of my mother in every cell of my body.  And yet, I celebrate that loss.  For I had something wonderful to lose.  And I weep for all of those children around my state and my country and my world who will not be gripped in sadness as a date approaches.  I weep because they never had much to lose, never received enough from their mother or father to miss.  You should miss your parents.    I am blessed because I do.