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I had a lot of sadness in my childhood. Despite my mother's very best attempts, we were poor. At one point, she was single with 3 young kids, no job and no place to live. The places she could find to live were too expensive or too small. As her world came crashing down around her, she wrangled up what little courage she had left and asked her friends and extended family for ideas (not money- ideas). She wound up deciding to have us stay with people she knew and trusted for a little while while she got on her feet. I went to stay with a long time trusted friend in Texas for a summer. My brothers went to stay with someone else in Tennessee. (The third brother came MUCH later in my life.)
I know she did what she thought was best and it had to kill her daily not to have us nearby. I know she must have cried and worked her hardest to get us back as fast as she could.
All I understood was that my mom was sending me away, to someone I didn't know terribly well, and I didn't have my brothers with me.
When we returned, we were different. All of us- my mother included. But one of my two brothers had serious issues. My mom tried to overlook it, but I truly think he was seriously harmed by the person she trusted to care for him.
As the years went on, my brother's issues only increased and worsened. Medicine, therapy, discipline-nothing worked to help him improve. My mother was told that my brother was a sociopath and that there was 'no hope' for him to have a normal life. She was encouraged (strongly) to put him into a home. My mother struggled with my brother for years and refused to give up hope that he could change. She fought with doctors and experts and moved-a LOT- in attempts that new surroundings would help, new doctors would help- that ANYTHING would help. She finally had to give up on him at one point and forced him to move out. He went to live with my dad for a while, and my dad went through many of the same issues. Nothing worked to change my brother, and my dad gave up too.
Because of my experiences and what I witnessed with my brother, I promised myself as a mother that I would never - NEVER - give up on my kids. I would never ask someone else to take on MY responsibility. I would never separate my kids or send them away. I promised myself that I would do whatever necessary to keep my pain from repeating.
I recently heard that the father of a young girl I am close to and love very dearly gave her up to someone else. This girl has been through much more trauma than I have ever experienced and is seriously troubled. She has many complicated issues that need to be worked through, with medication, therapy and perhaps surgery. Despite all her many -very serious- problems, she is a sweet and trusting girl. She's beautiful, lively, fun and energetic even with all her concerns.
Her father has admittedly done a lot for this girl that in many ways is above and beyond. I honestly saw signs of improvement and maybe even hope the last time I was with this young girl. However, I'd heard that very recently things had gotten extremely bad and they had temporarily placed her in a psychiatric ward. Her father finally got to a point where he could not handle the girl or her problems any more and has placed her in someone else's care.
Maybe he really thinks this is the best thing for her. Maybe he hopes that new surroundings, new doctors, and a new attitude will help her turn her darkest corner.
Maybe he was at the end of his rope, and he just couldn't hang on any more. He saw a chance for the rest of his family (he has 2 other children at home) to have something closer to a normal life and a way to ease his burden. He accepted the implications of sending one child away and getting his life and house back in order.
I believe this girl deserves better-much better- and there is absolutely nothing I can do for her except pray.
I honestly thought I was at the end of my rope with TallBoy recently. I know in the large scheme of things, grades are just grades, but I have been having the battle since he was in first grade. It's taxing and it hurts me to be the strict parent, to say 'no' to him. Outside of grades he is a wonderful boy- he's loving, respectful, considerate, fairly responsible and generous to a fault. I didn't want to give up on him just yet but I knew I was getting close to the end of my rope. I didn't know what to do, except pray.
Some financial things have been going on at our house that are pretty scary and I was at the end of my rope there, too. I'm far too proud for my own good and couldn't feel comfortable asking for any kind of help and just didn't know what to do. Except pray.
Thursday, I saw a reply to a post about grades at TwoPeasInABucket, a message board I like to read. It wasn't directed at or to me, but it was literally the hand of G-d putting a knot in my rope, and telling me "hold on-there's hope". The reply was the best idea I've ever seen for TallBoy's problems in YEARS and it's DOABLE. It's something my Dude and I feel comfortable with and believe will WORK. The knot at the end of my rope was desperately needed and came at just the right time.
Friday, a new way of looking at our financial situation arrived. It made the knot that I'd been hanging onto just that much larger and stronger, and gave me a little room to breathe. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath until that room came, and I just let it all out, and I felt like me again.
Every family has different promises and different ropes- but hold on. There's hope. If you're ever at the end of your rope, let me know. I'll do what I can to help- and pray.
1 comment:
That was beautiful. Thank you for sharing it!
Praying is powerful - in a way where I no longer say, "I can't do anything about it except pray" and I say instead, "What I can do...is pray." It's more effective than most things I can do in my own power anyway. It's a privilege, and I take it seriously. And witnessing how and when God chooses to answer prayers is just as wonderful. I'm glad you got some answers to yours.
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