Thank God

I’ve only seen it twice. A girl comes to our facility with her parents/friends/relatives and moves in to the cottage. After a get-acquainted period which includes some signing of forms, introductions, a tour of the place, and a conversation with the caregivers, it’s time for Mom/Dad/Sis/Aunt/Grandpa to go and leave the girl behind.
I’ll never probably get over it. There is reluctance to leave and a long good-by; there are hugs and tears. Burly dads tear up as easily as feminine moms. And it works on me…the knowledge that they are leaving their loved one in our charge…in the home of stranger...hopeful that we can work some kind of magic that was absent until now.
It’s a time for me to stop, too, and reflect on what I’m doing and why. It’s a time for me to be at once thankful that people care enough to make a place like this a reality and angry that there exists a need for a facility of this kind at all.
It happened again yesterday. Chari (not her real name) came to stay with us. For awhile. For an undetermined time. Until she’s able to put the past behind her and learns to cope with the onrushing future. It will happen again...and again.
As long as there needs to be a place like this, it will happen. Dad will tear up and Auntie will cry aloud. Mom will long for one more hug and Grandpa will once again be the strong one for the family, as he once was years ago.
Thank God for places like this. Thank God for grandpas. And thank God that one day we won't need a place like this anymore.