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May
2003 |
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Relationship
measured in love,
not length of time |
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One of the first
questions people ask when they meet Teenasia, our 17-month-old
foster daughter is, “How long will she be with
you?”
It’s a natural question, and a good question,
but it’s one I can’t answer. In our almost
three months of being foster parents, one of the things
my husband Bill and I have learned about neglected or
abused children who are part of Milwaukee County’s
foster care system is that the unknown is a fact of
life. How long Teenasia stays in our home is dependent
on her birth parents getting their lives back on track
to the degree that they are able to care for their children.
The attorneys and social workers in charge of Teenasia’s
case can guess how long this might take, but they don’t
like to, and the range of their guesses is so wide —
“anywhere from three weeks to a year”—
that they are better off not making any prediction at
all.
So Teenasia is a part of our family for maybe the rest
of this month, or maybe the rest of this year, or maybe
even — and this would be unlikely — forever,
if both her mother’s and father’s parental
rights were to be terminated.
We have a baby living with us and we don’t know
how long she’ll stay. Everything reminds me of
the uncertainty of Teenasia’s situation. I look
at the one-size-too-big shoes we received from a neighbor
and wonder if Teenasia will still be with us when she
fits into those shoes. I imagine her in a little summer
dress, in a swimsuit, or on a family camping trip, without
even knowing if she’ll still be with us when the
winter jackets are finally put away.
The uncertainty of Teenasia’s situation makes
me realize how deeply we depend on what we perceive
to be the duration of a relationship to know how to
love someone or how much effort to give the relationship.
When I talk with other women my age, we agree it has
become more difficult to make close friends as we tick
toward the mid-30 mark. We are so busy, and establishing
a new friendship can be an exercise in risking precious
time and emotional energy without a definite payoff.
So we hold back unless we think the friendship has a
chance of progressing and moving forward.
The nature of foster parenting, however, is loving without
regard to the future. And it’s a different kind
of love than I’ve ever experienced before. From
Teenasia’s perspective, it doesn’t matter
whether she stays a month or a year. She just needs
her toes kissed and her chubby cheeks stroked. She needs
someone to cheer for her as she learns to walk and understand
that she means banana when she shouts “’Nana!”
If she is clothed, diapered, fed and hugged regularly,
she knows she is loved.
Teenasia, at 17 months, cannot understand the uncertainty
of her future, and because of this, cannot be concerned
about it. And by living so deeply in the present, she
helps Bill and me do the same.
Teenasia has made me question the categories I put people
into — stranger, acquaintance, close friend, family.
If two months ago I didn’t even know Teenasia
and now she is like a daughter to me, what potential
might my other relationships hold, if only I gave them
a chance? How many opportunities do I miss for loving
others because I’m looking toward the future instead
of living in the present?
Teenasia reminds me that Jesus’ command, “Love
one another,” does not carry with it the promise
of a long-term relationship with the one being loved.
“Love one another” is a command made with
Jesus’ knowledge that when we love people, they
flourish. When we love others, they have the opportunity
to become, more fully, the people they were created
to be. Love, in its purest state, always transforms.
But it never guarantees we’ll have a tomorrow.
Teenasia came to us at age 15 months without shoes and
barely able to stand. She had a double ear infection,
a scalp infection and sores in her mouth. She had never
slept in a crib and woke every hour of each night. She
did not smile for the first two days she was with our
family.
Now, she walks well and delights us with her giggly,
outgoing personality. Her infections and sores have
cleared and she sleeps in her crib all night long. She
is happy and content. And while I may never be able
to answer the daily question of “How long will
she be with you?” I am able to say that Teenasia
has been loved every minute of the nine weeks she’s
been part of our family. And whether she leaves when
she is 18 months old, or stays until she is 18 years,
I know she will go out of our home stronger than she
was when she came.
As I was working on this column, I had to put it aside
to work on something else. I hit the “close”
button of my document, titled simply “Teenasia,”
and because I forgot to save, a message flashed on my
screen.
“Do you want to save the changes you have made
to ‘Teenasia’?” it asked.
I pressed yes.
Because I do want to save the changes.
(Scobey-Polacheck is married and has two sons, Jacob
and Liam, and one foster daughter, Teenasia. They belong
to SS. Peter and Paul and St. Monica parishes. Annemarie
welcomes dialog regarding issues raised in her columns.
E-mail her at ascobey@hotmail.com.) |
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