See Ya Later: The Journey of Reunification

Amanda Beery, Encourage Foster Parent, shares her heart on the topic of reunification.

Saying goodbye because you don’t know if there will be a later.

My family and I have a thing when someone is leaving. We say, “it’s not goodbye, it’s see ya later.” Goodbye feels final, it lends to forgetting - and the children that leave are impossible to forget. But at the same time, you pray they do forget because you want them to be able to heal from a season that was so broken, full of painful goodbyes and the realization of you because it means they weren’t with their family for a season.

Both can be true.

You want them to remember how loved they were by you and your family, but you also want them to forget. We aren’t the author of their story, thank God for that, but we are a chapter. So, it seems, ‘see ya later’ is something we can’t always say truthfully because we never know what the future holds. We only know Who holds their future. 

So, as I laid him down for his nap which felt like the umpteenth time of pulling his squishy cheeks toward my face and telling him the same phrase, “I will always be here for you no matter what”, kissing him upon his head.

As that statement was bold, it carried weight and truth, because ‘being here’ isn’t only defined by physically being in the lives of our kids in care. In fact, that is decided by many other people in their lives that don’t really know the children at all. Those that decide what their support looks like are the ones that never traced the wrinkles of their delicate skin, soothed the blood curdling screams of their withdrawals, or held tightly to them as they shook from the chemicals that wreaked havoc through their body and brain. No, those people, a system of decision makers will never know them or their tender breaths of broken realities, just the very manilla parts of their story, their file.

But, my love, my commitment to my words were true to him. I would always be here even when they decided physically, I am not what he needs any longer. So, I will pray. I will sit with the One who will know when he wakes and when he sleeps, if he is fed or where he even lays his head. And at the end of every day, week, month and even years, my being present means being in the presence of the One that gives us the strength to say goodbye when we really mean, "see ya later". Our hearts never forget.

"So, I will pray. I will sit with the ONE who will know when he wakes and when he sleeps, if he is fed or where he even lays his head."

“So how do you do it?”- the most common question I get asked. 

As we sit across the table from each other sipping lattes, I would say to you - I can do it because of the power of God and prayer. Those hot breath, tear-filled prayers as I pray, 'as long as it takes'. As long as these children have their life, I pray the life back into them or back to my arms. Then, I pray those same prayers for their family, their support system, their decision makers.

You never say goodbye, because goodbye is forgetting and one day your phone may ring and they may say something like this, “I know your home is full, I know you can’t take anymore, but I also know that you told us to call you if he ever needed you again.”

You need a minute after that call, you need to breathe, you drop the phone, and you don’t know how to proceed. You don’t have space, your capacity is spent healing gunshot wounds and broken hearts, and yet you remember his nap time promise, “I will always be here for you no matter what”, so you call back and say yes once again.

And you know what, months later you do it again, "see ya later". Because this is foster care. 

Then the most shocking thing of all after returning home a second time, he “unofficially” comes back to you month after month after month. You go from his "mama" to his "auntie", whatever he wants to call you is fine. You answer the phone when they call, you hold loosely to all the "see ya laters", your heart can’t repeatedly say goodbye because you will never forget. But you never know if each time you zip that suitcase will be the last.

Slowly, something shifts. He remembers. He remembers you didn’t judge, but were honest in advocacy, you fought for him when he couldn't fight for himself. He was always your top priority. He remembers you had his best interest always and you also treated him with respect and reminded him he was worthy of love. You showed him that no matter what happened, you would and had always been there regardless of their battles.

Without judgement, you kept saying yes to all the broken pieces and helped him to work at putting them back together with his love and safety in mind. It was no longer them and you, but a team of supports with a goal in mind. A goal to all love him and to always be there. Your whispered bedtime prayers become the lived-out testimony that he is loved by all, that he has lost enough, and there is no reason he has to continue to keep losing for the sake of others’ choosing. 

There is no map to life after reunification, there is only the road less traveled, it is narrow and uncharted with each child you love, and it is written only through sacrifice and no goodbyes. If "see ya later" comes only through day and night prayers and an eternal plea, it is never forgetting, always advocating, and holding truth at its word.

Integrity is fighting for a child, their child. What was once jealousy and adversity, becomes a plea for you to be present, to maybe one day be auntie, but at the very least, you are a warrior. Because any pilgrim on this journey is paving a way that tells a story of family that has never been written, but that is affirmed in God’s design of family, never to be broken. 

As we draw the last sip from our mugs, I would tell you that there is no written way, but your way, the way of woven prayers, open arms, loosely held expectations and an openness to a future unknown, much like the yes you gave in the first place.

Foster care doesn’t have to end with reunification; you can always foster the family. It takes love and sacrifice, boundaries with safety in mind, and a heart willing to hold more than just a child.

Will it be complicated?

Yes, love always is.

Will there be triggers and disorientation within their lives and that of your family when visits come?

Absolutely.

But you can welcome and reorient the child back into your home. Although the future is unknown for you, you can step forward in faith knowing God is the author of this story. Your lives will forever be changed as you hold fast to the fact God knows better and His ways are always higher.

Parents love their children. Even if you were once the bio parent's least favorite person, they will not be able to deny your tender loving care for the thing that gives them breath - the heart of their child. Be open to time and space, let go of what goodbye looks like and be willing to sit in the, "see ya laters". You never know what forever holds, but you know Who holds your forever. 

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The Beery Family

Written By

Amanda Beery

Encourage Foster Parent since 2017

You can hear more from the Beery Family on the blog, A Foster Family's Heart.