Letting go - again

Today, for no apparent reason, I am thinking of my foster brother Aaron. It has been over 23 years since he joined our family as a newborn and over 18 years since I last saw him. I think of him from time to time and wonder where he is, what he's up to.

Aaron was my first little brother. While we'd had foster babies prior to Aaron's arrival, none had stayed very long. We had Aaron for the first two years of his life, and he became our brother. When we had to finally say goodbye, it was gut-wrenching, heart-breaking. And that was for me. I can't even imagine how my parents must have felt. They have fostered so many babies since and have always had to let go, except for my adopted brother Luke.

I think of the character on the show Downton Abbey who gave up her small son to his grandparents, knowing that she would probably never see him again. Yes, she believed she was doing it for the good of the child, but I doubt that made it easier.

I know there are so many young women out there who give up their babies for adoption. I suspect that no matter how much of a relief it is in some ways, it is always heart-breaking, too. How difficult to put your child into someone else's arms and give up all (or almost all) rights to her education, her future, her development--to trust her entirely to someone else and to God! But how  much more difficult, after having your child at home for the first two or more years, to present a talking, walking child with a clear personality and very real emotions to someone else's care! I think of Hannah bringing Samuel to the temple for Eli to raise. I think of Fantine sending Cosette to the Thénardiers. How did those mothers have the strength to walk away from their babies, to ignore the tears and cries of "Mama!"? How did they deal with the inevitable guilt that followed? the loneliness and despair?

I think of my daughter Anna, who is two, and I cannot in my worst nightmares imagine having to hand her off to someone else, even someone I trust. I really don't think that even if I believed it was in her best interest, I could do it without shrivelling up and blowing away into nothing (or eating myself into oblivion--more likely). People have had to do it through the ages for varying reasons, and I know it happens today, as in the case of our giving Aaron back to his family. I just don't think that I have that strength or willpower.

I'm sure Aaron doesn't remember any of us. I'd like to think he's better off wherever he is, doing whatever it is he's doing, but my cynical side says it's probably not true. Yet Aaron left us for a reason. God has bigger plans than we do, including a plan for Aaron's life. I don't pretend to know what that is or why it included heartache for all of us (including him, at age two). But I pray for him and ask God to bless him today on behalf of my loving, compassionate, and godly parents who had to, in faith, let go.

May God hold Aaron in the palm of His hand.