Tonight, I washed the sheets on the bed that was never meant to be empty. I washed them and remade the bed after Little Man left, but they’ve sat there unused for three months now and I felt it was time to wash them again. Only Boy has stated that he NEVER wants that bed to be taken down, so although it would make his room much bigger and give him tons more room to play, it will stay. It stays as a reminder of the precious little boy that changed my life. It stays as a reminder to Only Boy that he DID have a brother and although he doesn’t live here anymore, that he always will. It stays. A few days after Little Man left I crawled up into that bed and smelled the pillow that he used that very last night in our home. It hurt so bad! I finally washed the sheets to keep myself from doing that again. I didn’t want to feel that pain. I don’t want to feel it now. I want my family back. I want the way it “was” to be the way it “is.” I’m still hurting.
Two days ago I felt this sudden urge to get ready for a new foster placement. Our home is still open for foster placements and our agency worker knows that we would really like another little boy to love. I sent messages to both of our past workers reminding them that we are open for placements and that we have room for a child in need of a safe place to stay for the summer. Nothing. I guess that is good. It is ALWAYS good if there is no need. I don’t want children to be in need of a safe place. I want the place they were born into to be their safe place. But, if… if it is not… I want to be that safe place. Until then, the bed will stay empty, even though it was never meant to be.