Well, what can I tell you, yesterday sucked.
It was one of the hardest days I can remember in a long, long time.
Court was easy and simple and in a way, a giant relief.
It started out with a supervisor letting us know that all the paperwork was in order and a move date would be determined at this hearing and it would be sometime in December.
I admit fully at that point to slightly loosing my mind and basically saying no, not an option.
Wait, what?
We had a chance for more time with Little One and we said no?
Um, yeah.
Here's the thing. We've packed him up and said good bye more times than anyone should ever do. Second, the transition was nothing short of torture for our two families and most importantly, it was unbearable to watch him try to do this insanity we were all calling a transition.
We decided that yesterday would be the move day, after all everyone involved was present and no one would have to make extra trips. Practicality, folks.
The hearing itself was revealing though. Without giving too much information, let me just tell you that this case was extended until the last week of 2011. Little One is 2 1/2. Extending that long means there is a very good chance he will be almost 4 or even older before a true permanent resolution is achieved. That's a long time. A very long time. He came into care at 2 months old. He came to us at 3 months. I do not think I could have lived it through that long without even getting close to a plan. I"m not sure. Maybe I could have, but it didn't seem like it.
Court ended, we picked a time and place for the trade.
I went home, packed all the stuff into my van. Clothes and books and toys and photos. 2 whole years of life packed into 3 plastic storage bins and a single red tricycle. I sorted all the paperwork.
In short time Little One was here. In even less time he was in his car seat and we were driving down the road.
When he came home Monday night, he wanted nothing to do with me. He only wanted Daddy. They had a pretty good night of cuddles and stories and so on.
He did relent and give me a few hugs and kisses on Tuesday afternoon.
The hand off was nothing short of brutal and my afternoon and evening ugly. That's about as good as I can describe it.
But now, here's the thing.
In sailing there is a thing called a self righting boat. It is built in a way that when tipped over in a storm, flipped turtle even, if you don't panic and just wait, the boat returns, all on it's own, to the regular upright position.
This morning, somehow it was a shock that the sun was still shining. My kids kept asking where Little One was and even I came down for my cup of coffee, shushing my big kids to not wake up Little One. Oh how we forget.
I thought I had processed pretty well and was going to be okay today, so when tears snuck up on me today I was not amused. I did not expect to be still in that spot on a new day.
After dropping Little Miss off at school I came home and it was quiet. Like listen to the clock tick and the fridge run and the dog snore quiet. It was cold and dark.
I had not realized what a little bucket of chatter he was until my car rides were so quiet this morning.
But you know what, I decided not to just sit here and let it run me over. I took a hot shower and spent a couple hours in my Bible with my God.
When it was over, the ship had righted. I could see the horizon again. Sunshine was welcome. I laughed at funny things. I turned the music up loud again.
Look, it's not over. This whole grief thing is gonna keep coming back and kicking my butt when I least expect it, but it's okay.
I'm still going to hang back for a while and take some time to leap back into things and people and activities. It's a raw wound, but at the same time, healing will happen, it is happening.
So don't take it personally if I don't come to some event or I don't take your call. I'm listening to your messages. I'm thankful for your thoughts and prayers. I need a little space. I'm getting your emails and Facebooks and texts. I am. My short answers do not mean anger. I'm just putting a little bubble wrap around myself and my family. For now, I'm just pulling them all in a little closer.
