My kids and I and my son's friend were in the family room, hanging out and watching movies. We were joking about something, but my son's friend started to cry.
"What's wrong?" my daughter asked.
As he rubbed his eyes, he shook his head.
I took a breath. I knew what was wrong.
"You want to go home," I said.
He nodded.
Later, after he had gotten his things and gone back to his father, my children expressed some confusion about his decision.
But no matter how fucked up, crazy, unhappy an original "home" is, it's also the only "home" ever known. Humans will seek that "sameness" unless and until they're willing to have something different.
I didn't try to explain it to my kids and even though I wanted to explain it to my son's friend, I'm sure all of the psycho stuff and the explanation about dynamics and having to rewire the whole circuit so that one gets the right messages wouldn't have made sense or mattered.
What mattered is that for a time, Life gave this child a chance to see family and home as something different than what he knew. ALthough my family isn't Ozzie and Harriet perfect, I hope we offered possibility.
He's gone now-- out-of-town with his homeless mother wherever she is.
I hope life treats him kindly; he is just a child, and I'm trusting.
I was saved because someone, several someones, took the time to show me other options and possiblities. Knowing there are other and better tools gives me the chance to build something more.
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