You walk.
Step by step.
Where… isn’t important.
But we can play that game.
You’re in the woods. On a trail. The very air shivers with birdsong.
And it’s the absence of forced stimuli that draws you in like hungry iron to a lodestone.
No glaring computer monitor to steal your sight. No broken back or aching ass nailed to a chair to assuage the foolish and frail egos hidden in the rulers of men.
Branches snap.
You can hear the fractured crunch of gravel underfoot like bones breaking. Smell the pungent aroma of fresh saplings fanning evergreen leaves soft as feathers. Taste the glittering dew riding on the tails of an emerald wind like icicles across your tongue. See the dappled shadows hanging from the legions of trees like black gaping mouths eating the punctured sunshine.
Your senses become a kaleidoscope of interpretation and exhilaration.
Then you look to your left, and see it.
See it for what it really is.
A spiderweb.
Hanging by a thread…
—
She holds the tip of my finger in her hand. Her own palm soft as silk yet no larger than a tiny marble.
The miniature fingers stretch and jerk as if no one is home at the controls.
She smiles. Stumbles into a gurgled laugh.
Grey eyes, dark as slate, scrutinize me. New eyes. Innocent eyes. Eyes that have only known the light of day for two weeks now. They pick me over as if I were a mystery to be solved.
If only fairy tales were real?
She came to us with nothing, but a blanket and the clothes on her back. That was the saddest part… hardest part.
Watching and not knowing. Blindly guessing.
Seeing this vulnerable spark of life with so little, tossed aside like an afterthought, discarded by a cold and unforgiving system like a piece of trash into the garbage.
Remembering that this was how most of the world really works.
Happy endings are only reserved for the privileged. Nothing makes fools of people quite like an affluent life… they confuse decisions made atop pillows for those compelled by survival.
Spending the night on the cold floor of a social worker’s office – terrified, uprooted, abandoned – is what greets the downcast and trodden.
Yet her effect on me was instantaneous.
It took me a little while to figure out what she was. I knew something had changed within me, but I just couldn’t place my finger on it.
Then it hit me like a semi.
Children are hourglasses forever rotating. They are reflections of time incarnate… life’s rhythm made flesh.
You see in them, what you’ve always hidden from yourself. That no matter how many breaths we’re given, there’s never enough.
And it’s not blood that courses though their veins, but the ethos of change.
Change is the blood of time.
And to watch a child grow, witness an infant put on a pound in a week, is to behold invisible clock hands ticking to the drum of a beating heart.
The most humbling feeling in the world, is to understand that the more I learn, the less I know, and this teaches me how little of this planet I will ever truly comprehend.
But what is change itself?
Change is a story… a narrative… an anecdote – it is the stones that built the bridge which connects the past to the future. And it is us.
Make no doubt about it, change is for the living.
Because no one recognizes their own death. It comes as a stranger. A stranger returning us to where it all began.
If there’s one thing that has stuck out in my mind, after two weeks of being an overnight father, lavishing in the light of a baby’s eyes, is how backwards our thinking is.
Whether we admit it or not, death is always the obsession. People cannot wonder enough about a single haunting question:
What will it be like to close my eyes and never wake?
We’re obsessed with the end when we should be preoccupied with the beginning.
However, the real question should be:
What was it like to open my eyes for the first time, having never gone to sleep?
That’s what a baby, born of different parents, yet overlapping my current life trajectory by the circuitous trappings of fate has made me remember. The question shouldn’t be how will I die, but where did I come from?
That’s what I see in the reflection from the mirror of an infant’s beginning mind.
—
However, there I go again, connecting dots that needn’t be linked. Assembling puzzles with missing pieces. Trying to read between the lines of paths that will run their due course on their own. Wondering and worrying. Playing God like a kid with a magnifying glass on an ant hill.
I didn’t know what to write last week. Well, that’s a lie. I always have too many ideas circling around in my mad man’s dreams.
The more accurate truth would be, I didn’t have any desire to fiddle around at all. I’m spent. Burnt out. Not on writing, but life. It’s the first time in over two years that the well has run dry, and because of it, this blog will be the sacrifice.
So, I didn’t write anything.
I had nothing to say.
I rested.
Creativity shelved like a burden to contemplate on some distant day.
I had always known something would come, even at the beginning. Had wondered endlessly what it eventually might be. And to be honest, I can’t believe it’s taken as long as it has.
But in one week, my writing finally came to a head… on a mere whim.
The moment was right. I gave myself the authority to stop. I granted myself permission.
An infant’s smile was the final breaking point.
And I must say, to those of you who write consistently with children. Fucking bravo! My hat is off to you. That’s a worthy achievement in and of itself.
As for me, I’m not sure how much I’ll be posting in the future. The hereafter remains unwritten (see what I did there, *wink*). Maybe a lot, but most likely much less. So don’t be discouraged if my publishing dribbles into that no man’s land of few and far between.
I’m still here. I will always be here.
But rather be heartened other adventures have come calling. You and I haven’t danced our last dance dear reader.
When the scribbling comes, I’ll indulge, but my thoughts have been elsewhere. Parenthood can do that to you. When a new spark of life becomes your responsibility, you feel like if you blink you might miss it.
And as more balls are tossed into the air, I can only juggle so much.
Fostering has been much more challenging than I had ever anticipated. And I came into it extremely focused with eyes wide open. However, it’s just one of those things in life that nothing can prepare you for.
It’s a gift wrapped in thorns. When a child becomes a ward of the state, it becomes a slave unbeknownst to itself to the administerial detail. Due process and the rule of law are its new guardians, and we’re only along for the ride.
We learned that the hard way the other night. After 7 hours in the ER until past 2 in the morning, for test after test – CT scan, ultrasound – for merely confirmation on what we had originally thought in the first place… a baby’s new birthmark on her scalp.
But reports must be written. The slightest aberrations documented. Bureaucratic armies of task masters sufficed.
Courts dictate arbitrary outcomes. Parental rights always trump a child’s. It’s just the backwards world we live in.
Yet it’s bequeathed me with sight I’d never thought I’d see. Things I was certain I had known have been turned upside down. It’s made me question everything.
Because you can only believe so many lies, before becoming one of them.
—
The spiderweb dangles.
Nature’s laundry pinned like rags on a clothesline.
Hmmmmm. You think to yourself. Its time is running short.
And then the wind takes it.
Invisible hands offering the spindled threads like an offering to the sky.
A new life born out of the old.
And you realize not everything is what it seems. Where is the top and where is the bottom on an hourglass that never stops turning?
Maybe anything might be possible…
In a world in which spiderwebs, fly like kites in the wind.
-Q-FI
—
How goes life to those sifting through the hourglass sands out there?
Identify with his post quite a bit. Just wait until you get a year in and you figure out bare minimum parent qualifies for reunification. Bare minimum parent is scary minimum and definitely not in the child’s best interest…
That’s heartbreaking and reflects my limited experience with children in similar situations. I still admire you both for what you’re doing (have done) and wish you the best! Q-FI, I’ve been away and am happy to return to such great news for you! Write when you can. We understand you have a greater calling now. But we look forward to your updates! Happy first holiday season together!
There are some that go back that it’s the right thing. Our second placement I couldn’t be happier that she went back with her mom. But sadly there are a lot of examples that are not that as well. The worst ones they disrupt out of a foster home after a year or two only for the child to boomerang back into care a few weeks later. Sad stuff to watch and usually a reasonable person can see it coming.
The other thing FTF, is how traumatizing it is for the child going back and forth. But like you say, a smooth and positive reunification is the exception to the rule. It’s wild to watch, but just doing what I can. Providing love, security and support and we’ll see where this journey takes us.
I could go on for days about the broken system though.
What is up miss Katie! Yes, have definitely missed your humor and wisdom around here! Ha!
But I know you’ve been hitting the books pretty hard. I remember what it was like working in a demanding job and doing my MBA at night. It stole my life for three years.
I think I just saw you posted for the first time in a while, so I’ll be over there soon to check it out.
Thanks for the congrats and I hope all is well with you!
Always love it when you find the time to read and drop me a line!
Yeah, you’ve lived it FTF. And I’ll say this every time, you and your wife are the real heroes. Any one that foster’s who also has their own children, that’s the real deal to me. I’ll write about this some day, but I had a lot of imposter syndrome and guilt at first. The wife and I came across fostering originally because we wanted to start a family and were looking into private adoption, not necessarily to help those in need. And now it has turned into that. It’s kind of stupid, but it really bothered me for awhile. Everyone would tell me what a great person I was, but I felt like a fraud inside. I just didn’t feel authentic even though I knew we’d be able offer a ton of love, security and support to a family in need. I’m good now, but it was kind of a bizarre emotional roller coaster during the approval process.
But man is the system fucked. We’ve already been through so much BS in our first 3 weeks. It’s hard to watch so many things happen that aren’t in the child’s best interest but you have no say. Yeah, reunification is the goal and that’s what we’ll always work for. But man, there’ll be nothing harder than watching reunification to a bad situation. That’s the heartbreaking outcome that you hope you’ll never have to witness. I’ve just come to terms that a child has zero rights in our system and that will never change.
You know everyone starts with that imposter syndrome. We were in a class with someone who thought it was there calling to be a foster parent. Here we are considering whether we want to add a third child to our family and foster care seemed like a good way to help and decide that at the same time.
But you grow out of that feeling. Especially if you have multiple placements. You realize no matter what happens you can be a positive influence on that child’s life and that’s what matters.
We have decided this third placement we have will be our last although after years there is still no end in sight. But the experience has influenced us enough my wife is looking into becoming a CASA after this. There are two other in our community that also volunteer as CASAs by the way. 3 years ago I wouldn’t have expected that.
That’s super cool your wife will become a CASA. I’m curious to see what our outcome will eventually be. My gut is we’ll eventually adopt… at least one, maybe more. But that first reunification is going to be tough. Did you take some time off after that? Or did you guys go right into another placement?
You can’t help but be changed when you go through this process and witness the need. The statistics have blown me away. 80% of inmates have been in the foster care system. Foster care girls have a 50% increase in teen pregnancy. Homelessness. It’s amazing what an advantage in life having a secure and loving home is. Not necessarily affluence, but basic stability, love and care is so key in a child’s development and who they will eventually become…
The stats are definitely frightening.
Our state pushes you to take a break. Ours lasted about 2 months after each reunification. At the end of the period we really wanted another placement which helped us to heal.
In one respect you still feel a bond to those children that reunified. On the other if you know they ended up ok (as noted not always the case and sometimes you don’t even know) it’s easier to deal with.
For us we originally wanted an infant placement. Our current and longest placement we took a vary young toddler. I don’t know that we would have had she come earlier in the placement list, but it was the right decision. Sometimes things have unexpected positives beyond just going back to a good home.
Thanks for sharing FTF. Much appreciated.
Beautifully written Q-FI, your best piece yet.
The great thing about writing a blog is it is all by your own rules. Write or don’t. Publish or don’t. The only pressures and expectations are self imposed. Do what works for you, else a hobby risks becoming a chore. No longer fun, but a (short lived) necessary evil.
We’ll be here should you pick up the pen again. Until then, enjoy the wonders of fatherhood.
Thanks Indeedably. Always high praise coming from you.
It’s taken me a while to kill the Alpha inside… haha. There were definitely some times I was like, well… that post isn’t up to snuff, but I have my schedule!!! Hahaha.
I’m learning to take your advice. Write when it’s there. Always enjoy it. The funny thing is, those self imposed pressures and expectations are some of the worst for me. I’ll always be my own worst enemy.
Thanks for the well wishes in fatherhood. Already learned more in the first few weeks about formula, feeding, diapers, car seats and strollers than I ever thought I’d know… haha.
Since becoming a parent many years ago, I’ve come to realize that parents, for the most part, have an understanding of life and the universe that nonparents never will. Nor can. For better or worse, I’ve since always taken nonparents with a grain of salt. Welcome to the knowing side, Q. You will be a far better person for the wonderful thing you are doing. Good luck. It’s often not easy. But it’s incredibly rewarding.
Thanks for welcoming me to the club FFTP!
Awhile ago, Noel posted a comment that has always stuck with me. He said something to the effect – he never realized what a selfish person he was until he had kids. That’s kind of how it’s played out for me too.
I agree with you. It’s just a different world when you are no longer the center of your own universe. And I can’t even explain how much my perspective has shifted. And as you say, there’s just no substitute for living it.
There’s been so much learning for me man, so much learning. But it’s been great. Like you say, not easy, but oh so rewarding.
I appreciate the comment FFTP!
Hey Q-FI.
I’m so pleased to hear you guys have finally got your first chance at your dream of parenthood. I simply can’t fathom how that change feels over night, even when you’ve been planning and hoping for it for ages.
Ironically, as you write of death and life, I’m sitting quietly by myself at the moment as a funeral goes on back home. It was expected and I’m glad they aren’t in pain anymore but that never changes the shock of someone you knew no longer being here in this world.
So yes, cherish every turn of that hourglass. And of course we’ll be here as/when you do write.
Thanks Michelle and I’m sorry for your loss. Death/grief kind of reminds me of sobriety in that it never gets easier, but it can get better with time. Some are better at processing it than others. Sounds like at least it wasn’t sudden, but that in no way diminishes your grief.
Yeah, the change for us had been a bizarre one… haha. It’s so different than normal parents, it’s hard to understand unless you’ve been through it like FTF. You have an overnight placement, no 9 months of planning and preparing. In our case we were open to any race or gender, so we had our age of 0-1 we could vaguely kind of plan for. Yet again, there’s a huge difference between a week old baby and 11 months. Boy vs girl. Is the case domestic violence? Can parents share visits? When and where will visits happen? So the planning side is thrown out the window. Then toss the system into it, you’re given very little information that usually turns out inaccurate, and anyone can claim the child any day.
Like I said, it’s just a weird situation, but worth it, and we’re very grateful for the privileged situation we are in.
Thanks as always for the comment and support. I’m shooting to at least try for two posts a month. But we’ll see.
I’m slowly learning to let go of my expectations for myself…. haha. Easier said than done!
Amazing writing dude. I’m happy for you. I think that as long as things fill the “void”, whether that be parenting or any other hobby, we are moving forward. Life is constantly changing and nothing can stay the same, the more we grasp onto keeping things the same the more we suffer. Good thing about a blog, as Indeedably commented, is that you make the rules.
Some people say with infants its easy because they sleep a lot. But the thing is when they sleep, that’s when the parents need to rest. It’s not like they go to sleep and things can carry on, well, they carry on because they have to, but you just become a zombie. And the schedule is so random. When my kids were young, the things that gave for me were both reading and writing. I used to do both passionately, with dreams of one day writing a novel/short fiction. But like you say, something has to give. Only just in the last year or two I’ve started writing semi consistently again ala the blog after taking some years off–it’s not fiction but its better than nothing. It helps when a kid’s sleep cycles is more predictable, and for me that means just getting up earlier to have alone/guilt free time to write.
I’m excited for this new chapter you’re entering. It will only enhance your creativity. The world looks forever different when a young life is completely dependent on you for survival. Good luck.
Thanks Noel and appreciate the support.
Good point on change. The more we fight it the less happy we’ll be. A good mindset to remember, but so hard to practice in real time… haha.
I appreciate you sharing your experiences. It helps me to prepare for what might come. But yeah, similar to you, just trying to get her on a normal sleeping schedule. We’ll see how it goes. First week was great, but now she’s getting more feisty… haha.
“The world looks forever different when a young life is completely dependent on you for survival.”
Your words sum it all up for me.
Thanks as always for reading and offering your insights!
Wow, what a story. Well your new child is definitely more important, write what you can when you can.
Funny how life is like that, you never really know how much time you have. Yesterday I found out a classmate died at 31 a few weeks ago. Crazy how we were doing group work together in high school, her life was already halfway over. She is gone, but I am still here, wondering when my number will be called.
Just breathe and be in the moment. I’m not a parent but I remember there is a saying that one day you will pick up your child for the last time, and neither one of you will realize it. So every time you pick them up, remove that in the back of your mind. Take care and best of luck.
Thanks Dominic. The writing will come when it comes. Or at least, that’s what I need to come to grips with.
We’ve already had a few deaths in my high school class as well. It’s kind of a trip when you look back, and compare all that you’ve done after them with the additional time you’ve had. These jolting reminders help us keep life in perspective – living is much more fragile than we like to play pretend with.
Being a recovering addict and my dealings in the rooms, I get these reminders a lot more than I’d like. Lots of kids OD’ing on Fentanyl. It’s fucking crazy. Tons of depressing shit is always happening.
For myself, I never really thought I’d make it past 30. Just hard living and rolling the dice didn’t give me much faith. Now just turning 40, it’s a trip looking back at all I’ve been able to experience in this extra decade of time.
Great saying. Any day can be your last. However, moment to moment living will always be the challenge. The world likes to pull that veil over our lives at every chance.
For me personally, if I can maintain some type of outlook tied to gratitude, many mores smiles tend to grace my days.
Thanks for the comment and well wishes Dominic. Much appreciated!
hey, congratulations on your exciting new addition to the household. i wish you all the best.
Thanks Freddy.
“What will it be like to close my eyes and never wake?”
That, of course, that. I’ve already said my indecent congrats, but I’m so over the moon for you and Mrs Q. So amazingly happy for you, man.
Words disobey at this point, but you know…
Check in when you can and want to.
Just won the “Best article of the year”
Bless you kids…
Hahahaha…. thanks MF. I appreciate the kind words. Just in that initial feeling out phase and we’ll see how the next few weeks/months play out.
Always appreciate your support and congrats.
Thanks again bud and happy Thanksgiving!
You skipped a week, I skipped a few months… and you had a much better reason! Congrats man!
Thanks IF. Skipped one week, that will turn into many more… haha. We all have our own reasons when we take a break, none better than others, simply varying individual journeys.
I hope you get back to writing more often than not as well!
I appreciate the congrats and hope you’re having some new adventures that have distracted you from the blog.