I remember this one time when I had to say good bye to a foster sibling, and it was a little different than other farewells I had made in the past. I was in fifth grade, and we had a baby staying with us, maybe a few months old. He hadn’t been with us for an extremely long time, and was going to be living with a family member after leaving our home, if I remember correctly. Even though he hadn’t been with us for a very long time, I was still pretty attached to my baby brother. It’s hard not to fall in love with a little baby.
I was in band when I was in fifth grade, and I remember that I was at band rehearsal when I was called to the main office. I don’t know if I’m combining memories here, but I feel like I had forgotten my instrument at home that day, and my mom came to drop it off to me. Maybe I’m wrong, and she just wanted to give me a last chance to say good bye. Either way, my mom was at the school with my baby brother. She was waiting outside; the baby was still in the car. I don’t remember if she called into the school or what happened. But one of the ladies who worked security at the front desk walked me outside to the car, which was a pretty big deal at my age. People never just walked outside during the school day back then. Well I walked out with the security lady, and I got to go say good bye to my baby brother.
I don’t remember how many other siblings I had at the time. If I was in fifth grade, then my brother had to be in third grade, and my sister had to be about four years old. I don’t know if my brother got called down to say good bye, and I don’t even remember if my little sister was in the car with my mom or not. I don’t remember anything else except for the feeling of relief when I got to say good bye to that little baby one last time. And that was it. When I got home, we were down a family member.
It’s sad to think about how normal good byes have been in my life. When I really think about it, my life has been anything but normal.
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