After getting word that the judge granted placement of our foster daughters to their grandmother, we finally found out last Thursday that they would be moving the following Monday.  To say the timing was bad, would be an understatement as we had plans to go to Galveston and then on to Illinois from there the following day.  It was a trip that couldn’t be rescheduled, so we had to make a decision on whether or hubby stayed home or I stayed with the girls while the other travelled.  Eventually, we decided hubby would stay and I would make the trip.

On Friday morning, we got up early, got dressed, packed the van and got ready to leave.  Our precious foster daughters were still asleep, so I gave them each a kiss and told them good-bye.  Not how I wanted to say good-bye, but waking them was just not an option.

I loaded Lili, Naomi and our Illinois visitors into the van and as I was putting the address in the GPS, hubby walked out with baby girl.  I saw her and tears began rolling down my cheeks.

This baby came to us at 5 months old.  She was a little behind developmentally and going thru withdrawal from exposure to meth.  I was now saying good-bye to an 8-month-old, who was sitting up, scooting herself around on her bottom (like Lili did as a baby), and who had become very attached to us.  She grew and changed so much in three short months and saying good-bye was breaking this momma’s heart into pieces.

I got out of the van with tears streaming down my cheeks and took her from hubby.  I kissed her chubby little cheeks, told her how much I loved and said good-bye.  Then we passed her to the girls so they could say good-bye.

She had absolutely no idea what was going on and wasn’t expecting her life to change yet again.  Yet is was and I could only hope that it was changing for the better since she would be with biological family.

I got everyone settled and climbed back in the van when hubby brought out big sister.  She had woken up and was sitting in the living room when he went back in the house.

Tears again began flowing down my cheeks as I watched her say good-bye to Lili and Naomi.  She was so stoic and then she turned to me.  I picked her up and she began to sob.  She did understand what was about to happen and she had very mixed emotions about it.  She had grown to love us as much as we had grown to love her.  She found her place in our family.  She felt safe, secure and loved.  Now she was saying good-bye to three of members of the family she spent the most time with in the three months she was with us.  I was her mommy for three months and she called me mommy.  Again, I had to send her off hoping her life would somehow be better.

When our son died, someone described the pain of losing a loved one as an open hole in your heart in the shape of that person.  The edges are raw and painful in the beginning.  Then over time the edges began to heal, but that hole remains to never be filled again.

Fortunately though, the heart grows bigger, so there is always room for more love.

My heart grew with these little girls in my life, but now has two more holes.  Pieces of my heart, in the shape of two beautiful little girls have gone with them.

When we got home Tuesday evening, the girls were gone.  The house feels much larger and is very quiet, yet no one can take away the memories I have of the time we were together.

They have moved on and now we wait for our lives to be filled again with other children who need the love and safety of a new home and family.  Not children to replace our precious little girls, but children who will help our hearts grow as we learn to love and accept them into our family.

Foster care means moving on, while never forgetting those who have touched our lives.