Cherish Your Children

I kind of had the idea for this post percolating, but news I received over the weekend cemented it.

I'd been listening to the audiobook of Hope's Boy during my commute for about the past week. It is a memoir from a former foster child, describing his early years with a grandmother who had trouble scraping by to provide their basic needs and then with his mentally ill mother who had the poor child taken out of her arms by law enforcement to be placed into a brutal group home. His more "stable" later years were spent in a single foster home where his physical needs were mostly met but his emotional needs were left up to him. I agree with one review I read that suggested the book should be required reading for anyone who chooses social work as a career. The author, Andrew Bridge, is a Harvard Law graduate working as an advocate for children in the foster care system.

And now for the event that touched me more personally. An 18 year colleague of mine lost a young grandchild over the weekend, a victim of drowning. This little lady would have begun kindergarten next month and came from a close-knit family full of love and personal attention. To say that the grandparents are heartbroken is a huge understatement.

I am again reminded of the events of 9/11. My youngest was a newborn at that time, and I brought him with me to a medical checkup soon after. One of my physicians had two sons working in the Towers that day. One made it out alive and one did not. I hadn't known this when I'd arrived for my appointment but figured it out quickly enough. After my checkup, I looked my doctor in the face and told him how sorry I was to find out about his son. He thanked me, looked at the baby and said, "Take him home and love him."

With tears streaming down my face as I went to my car, I recalled the other thing the wise M.D. said. We never know how long we have. He was so right. One day in the life of a child is so significant, because they don't have a collection of decades of memories on which to draw, as we do. Whatever we can do to make the most of their days, one at a time, is so worth it.

In a little while, I will head to the funeral for my colleague's granddaughter. I'm trying to amass my strength.