Well, someone special has been on my mind lately. One of my many foster sisters just turned...let's see...she's gotta be about 24 or so. That is crazy!
She had a birthday on May 6th. I am sure she was born in '82 or so because she was adopted by some family when I was still in high school. She was 4 at the time and I graduated in '87. It was before then. I think it was in '86 or so. So I am thinking she was born in '82. I will have to post some pictures of she and I. I made an entire photo album full of pictures of her, her and I together, etc. She was one of the special ones. They are all special, but there are a few that really touch you deeply.
We got her when she was about a year old. I forget the whole story. Her mother threw her grandmother (her mother's mother) off of a balcony or something and Roxy was watching. So we got her and had her about 6 months before she was returned home. She was brought back into care about 6 months later, if memory serves. Then we had her until she was adopted. I am fuzzy on the dates, I think it was spring. Maybe of '85 or '86.
She and I shared a room. She was SO SWEET. She had this thing where she would pick big open sores in her cheeks so my Mum would sew the pj's sleeves closed. We even had to do something so sometimes her arms were behind her back or something. Sounds cruel, but she had to be kept from picking her skin. It would get infected and we did not want her to have scars one day.
It was always so traumatic when the kids would leave. If they left to go back into an environment where they were not safe, it was a pretty helpless feeling. We all just felt defeated, but hoped the love we gave them would last them and give them a...I dunno...the strength to handle their rough lives a little bit easier.
We had her for another 2 years or so, at least. So when she left...wow. Until that point the worst thing I had been through was when my Uncle, who was like a grandfather to me, had died around my 10th birthday. When Roxy had to leave, it was pretty bad. You don't want to cry a bunch and scare them, you want to be positive, but you are absolutely heartbroken. Especially in this case, when you FINALLY had a sister and got to share a bedroom. Sure, there was about a 13 year age difference, but we were incredibly close. Over the years, I had enjoyed plenty of sisters, but they never stayed long term. I had changed her diapers, fed her, likely even helped potty train her. She would lay in our bed and watch me rehearse lines for the plays I was in, talk to me as I did my homework, etc. Wait a minute...I think she must have had her own room at some point, because I think then I only had a twin sized. Maybe Mum just let her come in and be there with me at night, because we loved each other's company. I just remember her being there a lot.
Anyway, the great news is that she was the Flower Girl at Stud and I's wedding! Her adoptive parents were great at making sure we kept in touch. We went to their house two or three times over the next 3 or 4 years. When I was pregnant with Brain and spent a month in Canada at my parents', they came to our house. She was about 8 or 9 and we sat on the couch and she read some books to me. I have not seen her since then.
For years after that, Mum would call her Mum and leave a message that we were there, could they please come and visit. We would never hear back. We finally gave up about 5 years ago. I sure hope I can see her some day again.
So every May 6th, I think of my sweet little sister. I think of her more often than that, but especially on May 6th. I will try to post some pictures oon.