Saturday, August 11, 2007

Saturday Night ..... 8.11.07


*{Click the Title: 2become1 by the Spice Girls, read the story below to learn Why]
So here it is August, and every August I remember 2 girls that our family fostered when my son was 6. And this song reminds me of them.The younger one was 6 monthes older than my son, and her name was Taylor, and the older one was named Chrystal and she was 15.They came to us because they chose us as their safezone. Their mom was strung out on Everything, from meth to booze to coke. Chrystal mothered Taylor and kept watch over her, and everytime their mom went off the deepend , she would choose a new safezone for them. They had been in Protective Services before, but that had led to them being seperated.I didn't know any of this when we met them. I met them at the Pool of where we lived. I was in my mid 30's and my Doctor had just told me that I had to have a hysterectomy. I was crushed, I wanted more kids. ( Anyone that knows me will tell you I should have had a slew of kids). But that summer we moved in an apt complex in the Northwest that was full of kids, and they hung out at our apt or at the pool. I made alot of spaghetti, and alot of cookies, and read them alot of books, and at odd hours kids would show up.In many ways it was very good for my son, an only child. Suddenly doing chalk art, and making playdough was more interesting with different kids around.

But in August everything changed, I had given Chrystal my number, in case she ever needed a sitter for her sister.But by September her mom was strung out and I got a phone call asking for me to come get both of them. I thought it odd that she asked me to drive over to get them, they lived within walking distance. I arrived and their bags were packed by the door. Both had been crying and their mother was passed out in the other room, and the apt was in total dissarray, and there were two men passed out as well, one in the Living room and one in the bedroom. The place reeked of bourbon and drugs and sweat and vomit. I was beyond horrified. Chrystal took me to the frig and opened the door, and showed me WHAT was in the butter container, and never said a word. Her eyes said it all. I picked up the bags, and Taylor held onto my hand while Chrystal wrote a note " We have gone to stay with friends, we will call you.We can NOT stay Here." She stuck it on the frig door with a piece of chewed gum and great force. There was desperate anger on her face.

We drove home, all of 5 blocks to the other side of the complex. The silence in the car was painful. Taylor sat next to me and still held onto my sleeve and tears rolled down her face. Chrystal sat in the backseat silent and angry , but tears rolled slowly down her cheek, and she did not even brush them away.

We got home and 6-6 was watching "Home Improvement" with Mr.Enigma. They both saw us enter with Chrystal and Taylor and were stunned...but stayed silent.Taylor went and sat on the sofa with my son and snuggled next to him, and he pretended to annoyed,but moved closer to her. She was a tiny blond waif with twinkly blue eyes. I took Mr Enigma into the Kitchen and discussed the situation while Chrystal went into the other room and called her grandmom to let her know that they were safe. I explained to MrEnigma that their living situation was not safe, and he nodded, and said well, they can't go home.He asked How long do you think they need to stay and I said I don't know, but they can't go home. And he said okay.He was and is a Good Man. And he rode the Girls Roller Coaster for the next 6 monthes, through Halloween,Thanksgiving, Christmas,and all that Fall and Winter brought with the situation.He even played Santa for these two girls and even turned our Reading room into a bedroom for them.

Chrystal told me their story, and we did as best we could. We made their mom get help, and explained that while her life was spinning out of control that it was unsafe for the girls. The Grandmother lived many hours away , but we did talk on the phone and tried as best as we could to coordinate a plan.....and we did this for monthes.And yes I did have to go and confront the Mom that she was Unwell, and to get her shit together, and that until then the girls were staying where they were safe. I also explained that I was willing to call in the Professionals and Protective Services if needed, and that did knock some sense into her.

The Girls favorite song was This Song,the Spice Girls song, they would sing it ALL the time. Chrystal really did look like Scary Spice and she was beautiful. And the little one really could grow up to look like Baby Spice. My son would sit on the sofa and watch them in awe as they sang. He didn't mind having sisters that year....not one bit.He didn't mind the Barbies, and the arrival of many pink things, and that I tried to teach Crystal how to cook. I hear this song and I think about them, and how I tried to teach Chrystal how to take care of her and her sister.And how hard I tried to give them what they hadn't had. I hear this song and I hope they know how much we as a family loved them......They moved that following spring after their mother finally got clean, and needed a new start. So we had to let them go.....

I still miss them...and yes, in my minds eye they are still 6 and 15....It's been 10 years and I hope that their lives are better...and that they are still together, in a better place.

11 comments:

enigma4ever said...

Painting is from 1917 M.Sennett again, while he was not famous yet, it is called "Sisters at the Sea".

Larry said...

Enigma that is very touching and very kind of you to take them in, many wouldn't be so kind.

It's a shame you lost touch. I bet you are forever in their minds.

enigma4ever said...

thanks Larry....I hope they do remember us...and our home....and that we loved them....the mo would not tell us where they were going, and I know that they did the Move thing over and over..State to State...this summer has been my reflect summer, esp. while I work on the other book...but also it has to do with this country being a mess, I still worry about people that were in our lives and where are they now....

My son and I heard this song last night and we both at the same time remembered the girls....

Oceanshaman said...

Powerful . . .

I'm moved . . .

Thank you . . .

Anon-Paranoid said...

enigma my sweet...
To do less would not have been you. I hope they are doing well and will someday find you again.

Take care and...

God Bless.

The Sanity Inspector said...

That's a great anecdote. God bless you for your giving heart. May as well cue up "Ooh Child" by the Five Stairsteps.

Ooh, child, things are gonna get easier/Ooh child, things'll get brighter..."

sumo said...

Loved the shared story...hate that their little lives had to know this pain.

alaskababy said...

I hope your family hears from these girls someday, or from somebody that can give you an update on their lives. I'm so touched by this story and can imagine their time with you gave them exposure to something that they could try to recreate for themselves someday. What a beautiful gift and from the sounds of it, they gave to you as well.

I had a sort of similar experience with my niece, a late night knock at the door because mom's life was in such disarray (drugs, "young" men... etc). (my family very divided, distance, too much dysfunction type of thing). I was glad she'd made her way to us, my husband and I had wanted to take her in when she was a baby, but sis wouldn't allow it. So we took her in for a time when she was 15 and she got on so well with all of us. But then her suicide attempts had us in the car heading for a psychiatric unit. I always felt badly that it ended that way, yet I was fortunate to hear years later that she was doing fairly well after some very very rocky (couple life-threatening) times. I'd bumped into her mother (my oldest sister) at the mall after having not seen her for years and we spent some time together, until the insanity wouldn't allow for more. My sister described her daughter as a "straight yuppy" mom. From what she came from, wow. It was great to hear. A part of me that had hung on with wondering could relax.

I'm sorry you couldn't bring more of your own children into the world. It sounds like they would be very fortunate babies.

enigma4ever said...

Alaska Baby: thank you for sharing...I think you do indeed understand what we tried to do...you were good to do what you could for your niece....nice to hear how it all turned out....and that you indeed were a part of her turning out okay...
I was very very lucky to have 6-6(son)....and so I know he was and is my greatest gift...and all children in his life and my life I have tried to give back...I do believe all children matter- they are our greatest resource- NOT oil...or anything else...

SUMO: I know ..I too hate what they had to go through....I tried hard to give them something else to fill their lives, books, music, mashed potatos, the Library,soup, The NutCracker,

The Inspector: I have been working on another book, and it has made me reflect on what has happened to our family and those around us...we all have stories...and sharing them helps ground us and connect us...and I do so hope that their lives got better....

Shaman: oh, thanks....stories that we share can help heal all of us...we all have had moments where we have touched another's life....

AnonP: I hope someday that I do find them again...nothing would make me happier...or my son... someday.

Robert Rouse said...

Wow, we must have a helluva lot in common. My wife and I were foster parents. We chose to become fosters for hard to place kids. Behavior issues, abuse cases, special needs, etc. We ended up adopting our first foster child. Dustin came to us as a six year old. He suffers from FASD and PTSD. His birth mother drank like a fish which led to the fetal alcohol. This disorder led him to cry a lot and by the time he was four he had suffered terrible abuse at the hands of "mom's" boyfriends. When he first came to us he had more than 100 scars on his back from cigarette burns. He had been thrown into a dryer once and had it turned on. He had his leg broken once and was beaten several times.

Yes, he was - is - a hard child to have in your home. Between the time he was removed from his mom at the age of four until we got him at six, he had been in nine different foster homes. He really suffered from abandonment issues so my wife and I made a commitment to keep him until adoptive parents were found never realizing that we would be those parents.

Fostering can be tough, but extremely gratifying at the same time.

Good for you!

enigma4ever said...

Bless you for doing something so brave and so real....wow...you all are amazing...what an amazing story ....and that you adopted....beautiful to hear...namaste...to your and your wife...

( I went to her blog tonight- it was lovely- I am adding her to the blogroll too...)