Family and Fiona

I have been mulling this post for a while and it still doesn't come together all that cohesively.  Or maybe it does and I just don't like facing the reality of it. For whatever reason, I keep writing it and hitting the delete button. Talk about stuck in a loop.  So today I have vowed to hit publish and just get this over with.  It is what it is, as my wife is so fond of saying.

Fiona was removed from our house 9 years ago.  She only lived with us a very brief time.  Although she caused total destruction of her room and some other belongings I have to say I was never afraid of her.  But the kids were.  Rob's reaction was severe and profound.  So was Chet's but it was different and complicated by his Aspergers.

Obviously, my intent has been to be a consistant, loving presence in Fiona's life in whatever capacity she felt comfortable with.  Over the years, she has decided it is okay to view me as a parent. She introduces me that way now.  And I love it.  I waited a long time to hear that.

I have been increasingly joyful about Fiona over the past six or so months.  The contact has been easier, thanks to the wonderful and amazing  Jane.  She has made strides in areas that I didn't think possible for her in many behaviors.  There are still miles to go.  There may be miles she can't walk.  But I figure my job as a parent is to be there. To help with the walk when and how I can.  To cheer her on. To love her.

Hearing she could come here again for a visit made me over the moon happy.  It is not as if she never came back here after her removal. She celebrated at least two Christmas afternoons here with us and had a couple other visits too, or times we stopped in after bowling, or a movie etc. But when my mom heard about the visit, all she had was fear.  Fear that I would need restraints that i didn't know how to use. Fear that the other kids and I would not be safe.  Fear . . . well the list was fairly legion.

And I realize that she speaks from a place of love for me and for my children who live here with me all the time.  And she has never met Fiona and seen her sweet sides, even though I have shared them via email or phone conversation.  The problem is that I also shared my concerns for and about Fiona over the years.  When treatments were not going well, when hospitalizations occured, etc.  I thought it was safe and appropriate to vent to my mom.

But doing so poisoned the well so to speak. And I didn't know that by sharing in this way with someone I trusted that I would do that. And that saddens me so much.