This post is for Wednesday after Memorial day in the "One Year Ago Today" series depicting our experience in May-June of 2010. Remember, I had a severely injured ankle, my best friend and husband's grandfather died the same day, our car broke down, and we had received a call telling us our foster kids were going home. We were broken...
By Wednesday I was pretty much a zombie. We had 3 kids depending on us but I was broken physically, emotionally, and though my faith wasn't damaged my spirit was tired. Wednesday brought mixed feelings.
First, nothing like kicking you while you're down - we knew immediately through this situation that it was as much a spiritual attack as a series of unfortunate events that we were involved in. We didn't know why we were being allowed to go through all of this, certainly there were other people affected by some of the events we were experiencing, particularly the deaths, and I'm not sure we will ever truly know why it all went down the way it did. But in the world of spiritual attack we were broken and the next thing on the list was to cause physical separation between my husband and I in a time where we needed to be able to lean on each other the most.
My husband's grandfather lived near our hometown, 1500 miles away from where we live now. Most of our families still live in that general area, so understandably the funeral was there. My husband thought it would be best to attend that funeral and be with his family, which meant Wednesday (the first reasonable flight he could make without taking much more time off work) he was flying out of town. In terms of our immediate family I was now on my own to take are of the 3 kids (1.5, 2.5, 3.5) with my brokenness. Of course I wasn't alone spiritually and my family nearby and friends were so nice to help, but still - the leader of our family, my spouse, was not nearby. No spouse-ly hugs. No rest in each other. I know this affected him too as travel "home" meant he would be away from us and he would be missing the funeral of our dear friend, something I know he didn't want to do. So with our 1 car we made a trip to the airport (though honestly I don't remember doing that at all).
The good news was that my mom passed him in the air. She had already planned a trip to visit us for 10 days or so scheduled to arrive this day. Of course, we hadn't planned that she'd be coming to visit during this time - surely we would have preferred a happier time - but it worked out well to have my mom there to help. She helped with the kids, she helped with food, and just by having her around helped us all try to do some fun things and get our minds off of what was taking place.
So my sister and I left mid-morning with her daughter and spent some time at the mall, shopping at Victoria's Secret for a little while before heading to the airport to pick up my mom. That was a nice treat. While my sister tried things on, I played with my niece in the cosmetics place, trying on makeup and sampling fragrances. It wasn't enough to take the weight off my chest, but it did help us have some fun. I ended up buying this, which I love. Good or bad it reminds me of this time, which I look back on simultaneously with horror and relief. We made it through and it reminds me of all that good that stemmed from bad.
Though the bad wasn't done yet.
Thursday, June 02, 2011
One Year Ago Today - Part 4: The Call
This post is for Tuesday (the day after Memorial day). Remember, I had a severely injured ankle, my best friend and husband's grandfather died the same day and our car broke down - all in the span of four days. We were left wondering when the next shoe was going to drop...
After our longer-than-long weekend, I decided to go back to work on Tuesday. It really didn't strike me that I shouldn't or maybe I needed a few extra days. I thought it was a good idea to get back into the swing of things - maybe catch a little bit of normalcy. The reality is that I wanted normal - I wanted to turn back the clock a week and have everything be as it had been the week before. Whatever the troubles we may have had that Tuesday it was nothing compared to what we were experiencing now.
Because the car was broken down, my husband and I had one car to share which means I had to do all the dropping off of the kids (can't drop them off before 7am) and then all the picking up and be home in time to give the car to my hubby by 4:30pm so he could go to work in time. That is a stretch, but one we had to figure out.
I made it to work around 8:30 I believe. I sat down and took a deep breath. My mind wasn't on work but I had to try. I failed to mention that during this time I was leading one of the biggest projects my department had been involved in - impactful to the entire company, highly visible - in a very long time. I had a small and very new team (3 weeks). We were running as fast as possible to get all this done. But clearly I just wasn't into it. But I had to try.
I turned on my computer and waited for it to load up. The phone rang. I don't think it was even 9am yet.
It was the kids' caseworker - the one who didn't show up the previous Friday when I broke my foot. Indeed, she tried to come and made it in fact - to our old house. Ironically the old house is in the same neighborhood less than 1 mile away but when we moved our phone number was not transferrable so we had to get a new one. Neither our address nor our phone number was correct. She was a new caseworker and didn't have our cell phone numbers either. So she drove what amounts to about 45 miles to get there - made it to less than a mile away, and had to turn around to get home. Our tenant at that house knows us well and could have given her the correct address but I'm sure she was working - it was mid-morning on a Friday. Oh well - it was meant to be. So I proceeded to ask her when she'd like to reschedule. Then the shoe dropped.
"Well - actually," she replied, "We are going to be moving the kids to their grandparents' home next Wednesday so instead I'd like to make arrangements for that". The kids' grandparents - the ones who chose not to care for them any longer which lead to them being placed in the custody of CPS - were going to be getting them back. I don't blame them, their situation wasn't fair to them either and the way things worked out worked better for them and the kids. But it was our first loss - a loss that looked at the time very much like it wasn't going to happen and that the kids might be an adoptive placement. (They did indeed end up being adopted, by the grandparents, earlier this year). We had bonded to these two. Our son had bonded to these two. Our first venture into foster care was ending.
That was all I needed - I lost it. After a few minutes of sobbing at my desk- like full-fledged snot and all sobbing - I cleaned myself up the best I could and went over to tell my boss I was going home. She knew about my foot and I had emailed her about my friend's death but she hadn't seen it yet. I had the best boss in the world. When I explained what had happened (so far!) she told me to take the rest of the week off. She couldn't believe I had tried to come in at all and now with the kids going home she in her abundant concern and wisdom knew best to send me home. That really was best for me though it put a strain on my project and eventually my career in that position.
We were sad to have them going home but we had no control over it and frankly no more tears to cry. I don't remember what I did the rest of that week but I know it had nothing to do with work. That was the last straw.
I was broken.
After our longer-than-long weekend, I decided to go back to work on Tuesday. It really didn't strike me that I shouldn't or maybe I needed a few extra days. I thought it was a good idea to get back into the swing of things - maybe catch a little bit of normalcy. The reality is that I wanted normal - I wanted to turn back the clock a week and have everything be as it had been the week before. Whatever the troubles we may have had that Tuesday it was nothing compared to what we were experiencing now.
Because the car was broken down, my husband and I had one car to share which means I had to do all the dropping off of the kids (can't drop them off before 7am) and then all the picking up and be home in time to give the car to my hubby by 4:30pm so he could go to work in time. That is a stretch, but one we had to figure out.
I made it to work around 8:30 I believe. I sat down and took a deep breath. My mind wasn't on work but I had to try. I failed to mention that during this time I was leading one of the biggest projects my department had been involved in - impactful to the entire company, highly visible - in a very long time. I had a small and very new team (3 weeks). We were running as fast as possible to get all this done. But clearly I just wasn't into it. But I had to try.
I turned on my computer and waited for it to load up. The phone rang. I don't think it was even 9am yet.
It was the kids' caseworker - the one who didn't show up the previous Friday when I broke my foot. Indeed, she tried to come and made it in fact - to our old house. Ironically the old house is in the same neighborhood less than 1 mile away but when we moved our phone number was not transferrable so we had to get a new one. Neither our address nor our phone number was correct. She was a new caseworker and didn't have our cell phone numbers either. So she drove what amounts to about 45 miles to get there - made it to less than a mile away, and had to turn around to get home. Our tenant at that house knows us well and could have given her the correct address but I'm sure she was working - it was mid-morning on a Friday. Oh well - it was meant to be. So I proceeded to ask her when she'd like to reschedule. Then the shoe dropped.
"Well - actually," she replied, "We are going to be moving the kids to their grandparents' home next Wednesday so instead I'd like to make arrangements for that". The kids' grandparents - the ones who chose not to care for them any longer which lead to them being placed in the custody of CPS - were going to be getting them back. I don't blame them, their situation wasn't fair to them either and the way things worked out worked better for them and the kids. But it was our first loss - a loss that looked at the time very much like it wasn't going to happen and that the kids might be an adoptive placement. (They did indeed end up being adopted, by the grandparents, earlier this year). We had bonded to these two. Our son had bonded to these two. Our first venture into foster care was ending.
That was all I needed - I lost it. After a few minutes of sobbing at my desk- like full-fledged snot and all sobbing - I cleaned myself up the best I could and went over to tell my boss I was going home. She knew about my foot and I had emailed her about my friend's death but she hadn't seen it yet. I had the best boss in the world. When I explained what had happened (so far!) she told me to take the rest of the week off. She couldn't believe I had tried to come in at all and now with the kids going home she in her abundant concern and wisdom knew best to send me home. That really was best for me though it put a strain on my project and eventually my career in that position.
We were sad to have them going home but we had no control over it and frankly no more tears to cry. I don't remember what I did the rest of that week but I know it had nothing to do with work. That was the last straw.
I was broken.
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