An emotional week. F leaves today to return to Colombia. She did not want to leave. She cried.
At least she can still cry. She and Michael have experienced more difficulties in their young lives than many will experience in their entire lives. For Michael, this means he refuses to cry ... and so never does (actually, he cried with me once -- it was when I told him that no matter what happens, he's my "forever" son. But he's clearly blocked out the incident of crying from his memory). At least F can still cry.
Yesterday, we were driving around on various errands. I ran into a local Walmart to get some brown rice for the dogs. While there, we passed a clothing rack of 50%-off holiday dresses. Mom told F to pick one and that we'd get it for her. Mom and I were mindful of how F had so loved the pink dress we'd gotten for her earlier, and at least the thing with holiday dresses is how their fancy designs address a repressed girly-girl nature. Here she is in the dressing room.
Despite being worn over her purple leggings, Gorgeous, right?
Well, a few hours later as we were packing, she said not to include that dress and stockings I'd brought for it (as well as many of the other items we'd bought for her stay). She said that she'd never have a chance to wear it back at her orphanage. She said dresses like that are set aside for special occasions but ... there aren't usually that many "special occasions."
So off she departs, crying, because she wants a family so badly. And here I am stuck with an unworn dress hanging from a spare bedroom closet.
There's many things I can't say about F publicly. But I will express the hope that ... May your life not end with a memory of a favorite dress being that of something tried in a Walmart dressing room during a stray grocery run, and then never worn again. There is something wrong in the world when even such a ridiculous hope may be too ... ambitious
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