Parting is...

... a sweet sorrow, it's true. It's also bittersweet. And freeing. And heartbreaking. All at the same time.

Big Bro and Little Bro went home to their Momma's house today. For good.

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I've tried to write this post twice now, in anticipation of their departure-- slated as 5/29 from the day we picked them up from the shelter. But as their departure was delayed, and delayed again- things got tense. I was stressed to the max- trying to keep all their clothes clean so we could pack at any moment, use up all the 'kid' food and then scramble for something else to feed them when the days came and went. Try to act like things are normal, do our normal routine, while waiting for the phone to ring from the case worker. That post was entitled "Tightrope".

Previous to that I chronicled the steps leading to the waiting game: worker visits in our home, discussions about 'bridging' with Mom, trips to visit the kids' lawyers, having to reschedule the therapist because I honestly don't know who's house they are going to be at on X date. That post was entitled, rather clinically, "Reunification."

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But when it came down to it. Today. I was trepidtious. Not knowing how I would feel. Glad to get my house back? Sad to see them go?  Weirdly thrilled to be rid of the fighting, the tantrums, the drama?

Yes. But as I packed their clothes, their toys, their gifted CD player, their basketball and tiny toothbrushes, I was overwhelmingly sad.
And as they clamored to know "Is it time to go yet?!", sadder.
And as Little Bro said, enthusiastically, honestly, "I been wantin' to get out of here for awhile!", gut-punched.

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I do my best, but there's no denying that these boys want their Mom, they miss her and as much fun as we have here- bikes! pool! cookouts!- we are not 'home'.

I recently saw a blurb (probably on Pinterest) that said "Home is wherever Momma is" and at the time, I thought, "Well, not always."

But I think it's true, even for--especially for-- kids in OKDHS custody. We were fortunate that The Boys' Momma is good people. She's young and she made a mistake that got her kids taken away from her. But, unlike some people in the system, she desperately wants them back. And has done everything the courts have asked her to do in order to make that a reality.

Fortunately, she is open to "Bridging" which is a fancy DHS term that basically means staying in touch. We plan to see them soon- have to take their bikes to them tonite- and hope to stay involved in their lives in the coming weeks and months.

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As we stuff Mom's small car full of the books, clothes, games, toys, balls, shoes, etc. that they aquired in the 9 weeks they've been with us, I have to conciously step back to let Her repremand the boys as they squabble over who gets to sit in the front seat. I'm not in charge any more.

As they back out of our driveway, I can see Big Bro waving from the backseat. Little Bro rolls down the window and shouts, adorably, "See you later, alligator!" I will miss their silly antics.

As they drive out of sight, I step into a suddenly quiet house and walk unempeaded to my office to sit down and write this post, which is entitled "Parting is such sweet sorrow." Because it is both sweet- they are going home with Momma, to a new house, a new beginning- and sorrowful-- they aren't here with me anymore. But mostly, I am grateful for a successful first placement and look forward to the next.