The Japanese have an art called Kintsugi by which broken objects, such as pottery, are repaired with gold. Instead of covering it up or trying to make it appear “brand new” again, the flaw is seen as a unique piece of the object’s history, adding to its beauty.

Brokenness. Another “side effect” of fostering. All day I have been preparing for the hurricane that is DEPRESSION. Self diagnosed, of course, because I’ve never actually taken the steps or time to see a clinician about it. And I probably won’t for a while. Maybe never. I made a pact with myself that I would reach out for help if I ever felt unsafe or helpless. But I know it’s there. And I know I suffer from it. And there are some things I can do to help lessen it’s effect: keep my house clean, keep sugar and caffeine intake low, keep my essential oil roller blends close, drink plenty of water, and get at least 8 hours of sleep. It’s like watching dark thunder clouds roll in before a big storm. This morning I woke up and just knew; the clouds are coming. Activate self preservation mode.

We have bio relatives for a sibling set of 3 visiting these next two weeks. Everything leading up to the moment they got on their plane last Friday indicated that they were going to be involved, intentional and serious about getting acquainted with the kids we are caring for. I made plans over a week in advance to meet them over brunch… I had orchestrated, in my mind, what was to be the “perfect” day and more importantly, a magical day with low pressure and fun opportunities for the kids to connect with their relatives. The grandparents blew us off… then met up with us later, spent 2 hours with the kids, and then decided they were exhausted and done. The next day was similar… and then the following day they decided to “take off” and have a break…. another day has passed that we haven’t heard from them. These grandparents, who are like 150 years old, are supposedly in the process of getting their license so that they can take the kids. There are so many twisty side stories about this whole situation, but you get the gist – 3 kids who have endured hell and all signs lead to “Hell Ahead.” I don’t get it. Maybe I never will. I just want so damn bad for these kids to have a happy ending. Parents to show up for them at their graduations, to push them to reach big goals and dreams, to take them on magical trips around the world, to teach them, to love them, to give them a lifetime of memories… nothing that’s happened to them makes sense. Nothing about the current plan for their future makes sense. I just can’t understand why these amazing kiddos have had it so hard. Or how anyone can imagine this potential upcoming move to be good for them.

We have three kids who are terrorized in the night by their dreams. The youngest often screams throughout the night – the oldest frequently runs into our bedroom, mid night, covered in sweat, stifling his cries, making sure I’m still there. The middle child falls asleep sometimes at meals or in school (of course that is after he’s finished running down the halls, asking teachers “what does this mean?”, waiving his middle finger high. He keeps us on our toes!) There is beauty to their brokenness. Just like the broken Japanese pottery repaired with gold, they are extraordinary beings – sharing a deeper connection with one another, empathy towards others, and seeking love and affection and fun in (mostly) healthy ways. I dream of the day when they will sleep peacefully and feel 100% safe. I wonder how much trauma this potential future uprooting will cause / set them back.

I AM hopeful for them. Because of their resilience, these kids WILL be okay. They will make do with what they are given. They will survive wherever they end up. And they will know that people like us LOVE them. And nothing is set in stone yet… maybe a more suitable relative will step forward for these kids. Maybe.