It’s such a ridiculous question and yet this or the offshoot of this question – why do people think its hard to love the kids? is a real part of my life.
My primary emotion here is anger. Every time I have to respond to a well-meaning statement “you are such a saint” I get angry. It’s probably not fair of me. What a nice thing to say; but how in the world am I supposed to respond to that? In somehow acknowledging that it takes a lot of self-control at times to be a foster parent am I inadvertently sending the message that these kids are hard to love?
I have had to ask myself this question. One of the first kids to come into our home had horribly sexually abused a young girl. When I closed my eyes I was confronted with imaginations of the pain this girl suffered. Of how this young girl’s life was likely forever altered. Of the anger her parents must feel, at the anger I felt toward the violence and injustice of it. And then I opened my eyes and saw a boy. A boy with an earnest face who wanted nothing more than to go home. A boy who spent hours planning a talent show for himself, my husband and I in our basement. Imagine him at standing at a kitchen table which is covered in newspaper holding a balloon covered in paper-mache. Eagerly directing me on where to apply glue so we could attach little bits of CDs to it to make the disco ball that would hang above us for the show. A boy who really wanted snacks (cut up green peppers, ranch dressing, cheese and crackers, and popcorn) for dinner to make it extra special. A boy who practiced singing along to Justin Bieber for hours so that he would be good when he performed for us. A boy who dedicated his performance to his newborn baby sister. A boy who told me “You did really good too” even though my magic tricks didn’t work at all. So do I love the child and hate the crime? Can I possibly be what this boy needs me to be? Am I less of a person if it’s sometimes hard to separate the boy from what he did? If we can’t find a way to somehow see him without just seeing his crime are we dooming him to a life of repeating and perpetuating more violence?
To the question “are the kids hard to love?” I say: Look into the eyes of your 2 month old baby, your child, your niece or your grandson. Take in their smile and the way their arms wrap around you. Watch them run or draw, laugh or sing. Remember the moment you first felt a sense of knowing and wonder at who they are. And then, imagine if they were to be touched by a tragedy. The loss of a parent or abused at the hand of an adult they trusted. Could you possibly love them less for this, or would your heart cry out and call you to love them more? Our children are hurt; and they are profoundly easy to love.
The part that is hard is bearing witness to the pain they carry. It’s sometimes heart-rending. It is sometimes displayed in hugely annoying and aggravating behaviors. It sometimes takes the form of lashing out or isolation. It’s sometimes an overwhelming neediness. But it is always pain pouring through. Pure pain. It is hard to watch a child you love carry a pain so deep. It’s hard to know I can do nothing to take that pain away.
I send this message to anyone parenting a well cared for child. Thank you for loving your kids. For teaching them that they are whole and valuable people. They are lucky to have you. We need more people like you. And please, give your kids an extra kiss tonight and be thankful they are safe. Keep them that way as best you can.
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