Imagine for a moment, as best you can, that you have arrived home one afternoon and decide to go for a walk.
On your walk you pass a small reserve where you notice a young child sitting alone. Picture it in your mind, what are they wearing? what is the colour of their hair? the look on their face? Can you see it?
You conclude that the child must be waiting for a friend, or that their family are near by, so you continue your walk.
After a very long walk you pass the reserve again, this time on the way home. It is getting dark and you notice the child is still there, they haven’t moved and you can see tears in their eyes.
What do you do?
Well imagine that you stop to consider the situation. You notice that other people are also out walking, and they are walking right past the child. It’s not that they are bad people or heartless, you know some of them, you know them to be good people, they just don’t see the child, well most of them don’t, a few do and still keep on walking.
You realise that helping this child will inevitably delay preparing dinner and you are already feeling quite hungry. Despite the discomfort of your hunger pains you realise your pains are nothing compared to the fear and sadness this child is obviously feeling and the danger they may be in. You decide to talk to the child and do what you can to help them, you do this despite the likely inconvenience and discomfort that will result.
You approach the child in the least threatening way you can, you realise you may be scary to them and they surely know about stranger danger. Through their tears, sniffing and erratic breathing, they explain to you that they are lost. The child wondered out of their house then followed a little dog through the streets. Now they are completely lost, frightened and homesick.
You use your mobile phone to call the police who are aware of the missing child and are now on their way. You stay with the child and do what you can to comfort them.
The child is collected and back with their family. You are now very hungry, your evening has been disrupted and you even felt quite sad when empathising with the child, but despite this you feel really good about helping the child, knowing that your small amount of discomfort and sacrifice resulted in reducing the child’s suffering and produced a good result which could easily have ended otherwise if no one stopped, or even worse, if the wrong person stopped for the child.
You start to wonder why so many people walked past, why didn’t any of these people stop to help? Over the next few days you run into some of the people you recognise that walked past, you know them to be good people and eventually you cant help but discuss the day with them. When you hear their response you are surprised, puzzled and sometimes angry (though you don’t show it).
The responses range from “Oh, you are so amazing helping that child, I would help, but I couldn’t do that, it would just make me so sad to talk with a crying child, but I’m glad you stopped” to “That’s nice of you, but I couldn’t stop of course, dinner was already late and I really needed to put it on” to outright criticism “I just don’t understand why you would want to get involved in other peoples problems, the child’s parents are clearly irresponsible! They are just bad parents”.
Can you imagine that?! Take a moment to think about how you feel about helping this frightened defenceless child in need. Think about how you feel about the reasons people gave as to why they didn’t stop to help. Perhaps you feel the reasons given are fair, perhaps in reality you would share those reasons and not stop for the child? Or maybe in reality you would be the person to stop, you would be puzzled, shocked or even angered by the explanations others gave as to why it was right for them not to help.
I have asked you to imagine this scenario which I hope you have, it is of course a thought experiment and people probably wouldn’t reply like that (I would hope). This scenario however is a perfect analogy of how we felt and the responses we received when my wife and I started as foster carers. We were (and continue to be) puzzled and shocked (yes, sometimes even angered) at the response by family and friends to our decision to become foster carers. Through this article, and by relating to the scenario you just walked through, I hope to give you our perspective. I hope to explain what we actually hear when people praise us, and what we hear when told why they “couldn’t” do the same.
I’m not here to judge anyone. I am not here to guilt anyone into foster care. There are many cases where people are just not in the position to or are not suitable to care. For those that wish to listen, I do want to explain why my wife and I are carers, and our response to the different comments we receive. I may be blunt at times, but the truth often is.
That’s amazing that you foster, you guys are incredible!
This statement is often the first thing we hear when some one finds out that we are foster carers. It can be nice to hear, it is nice to be recognised, at the same time it is more often than not difficult to hear. It’s not that we are ungrateful, we know you are sincere and it comes from a good place, but we don’t see it that way, and it feels like taking credit for doing the bare minimum when we could do a whole lot more. We get so much more out of fostering than we give, and there are so many carers that do so much more than we do. It feels like being praised for stopping and helping that lost and scared little child at the reserve. Shouldn’t this just be the norm? not something special or out of the ordinary? I mean, wouldn’t anyone take a little discomfort, a little disruption to make a huge difference to a suffering child?
So thank you for the praise, and thank you for your thoughts, but please understand that we are not saints and we would much rather something along the lines of “I hope it all works out for him/her, if there is something I can help with please let me know and I’ll see what I can do”, rather than “You are amazing, I couldn’t do that”.
Isn’t it hard to give them back? I couldn’t do that! I don’t know how you do it!
Yes it is! Yes you could! I can do it because I care about them.
We hear this almost as much as “You’re Amazing!”, more often than not they are coupled together.
For quite some time I had a big problem with hearing this (turns out a lot of other carers do too, they just cop it on the chin and move on). Why would I have a problem with this? Isn’t it a nice thing to say? Well no, no its not.
Firstly lets think back to the scenario of the lost child. Remember the person that said “Oh, you are so amazing helping that child, I would help, but I couldn’t do that, it would just make me so sad to talk with a crying child, but I’m glad you stopped”?
What they are actually saying is that their comparatively small amount of suffering is way more important to them than the huge amount of suffering the child has to deal with. They are saying “If the deal is that I have to bear some discomfort to prevent a huge amount of pain to the child, then I’m out! No deal!”
Is it hard to give them back? Yes, yes it is! It hurts like hell!, but you see, no matter how much it hurts you, it is nothing in comparison to the fear, confusion, sadness, isolation and rejection felt by the child before they find a loving caring home. We take on some of the load so that theirs can be lightened.
Secondly, what exactly do you think I feel? Are you saying that somehow I must not get as attached or emotionally involved as you would? Are you telling me that you care soooo much, that you have to just keep walking and just let the child fend for them self?
That’s not how caring works! That is not what love is about! When you care for a child, when you love them with all your heart, you will do what ever it takes to see them happy, to give them every chance to have the family and childhood they deserve. If that means letting them go, then that is what you do, no matter how much it hurts! THAT is caring, that is love! How could you not give them this chance? I am not callus, I don’t have some extra ability to suppress emotion that you do not have. What I have is the capacity to understand that the child’s suffering is far more than anything I will experience, I understand that the comparatively small amount of suffering I will endure will lighten the burden of this child and provide a chance for a happy future. I will come to love this child so much, that I will take on the sadness so that they can hurt a little less. So yes, you COULD give them back, because you would come to love them, and you will do what is best for them, not just yourself. You will find the strength, you find it for this child and you will find if for your family. You may even find a strength you didn’t know you had.
I will never forget one of the most beautiful scenes I have ever had the privilige to experience. We knew the time was approaching for a child to leave us, a child that had been with us for quite some time. My wife was holding this perfect little child in her arms as they were drifting off to sleep. She knew what was coming and of course she was heart broken, but knew it was the best thing for the child. She started singing to her
I’m gonna love you Like I’m gonna lose you I’m gonna hold you Like I’m saying goodbye wherever we’re standing I won’t take you for granted ’cause we’ll never know when When we’ll run out of time so I’m gonna love you Like I’m gonna lose you
And I use to think that I was the strong one in the relationship! Even now when I hear the song I start to fog up.
So please don’t tell us that you are too sensitive and loving to help a child, it comes across as a cop out, to have it both ways, of saying, I am a good person and absolutely would help any child – but I just cant … because I am such a good person.
These days I don’t get so uptight about it. I just assume that its the first thing that pops into peoples heads and they really haven’t thought it through. I imagine there is another reason, a valid reason, but for whatever reason they can’t say it, so they fall back to “I couldn’t do that”. Whatever it is, these days I just feel it is sad. Sad that the person denies themselves this joy, and sad that there are kids that they could help, but never will.
There are more children requiring care than there are foster carers. Don’t think that someone else will stand in if you don’t, its just not the case.
What about your own family? Doesn’t it affect them? I couldn’t do that, I put my family first.
Does it have an affect on my family? Absolutely it does!
Take my children for instance, their family has now grown bigger and they absolutely love their young sibling and their new Aunty and Uncle. They have learnt such important life lessons that just can’t be taught to a privileged child through stories or reason. They have had great times but have also seen first hand that other children are not as lucky as them. They have learnt patience, compassion and understanding.
I watched, heart swelling with pride, as my son prepared the room with a teddy bear, some of his toys and dream catchers so that the foster child wouldn’t be scared at night. And when my eldest son read a child a book to go to sleep many nights in a row, when for the rest of us it was a long painful process to try and get this child to sleep. My kids have learnt empathy and had the opportunity to do something practical to help a child. They have had the first hand experience that goes beyond the abstract act of placing a coin in a donation box (which is also a good thing – just not quite the same).
It’s not always an easy ride, but the challenges are part of what makes it such an invaluable experience for my kids. They get so much out of helping other kids, it has been absolutely wonderful for them, and they wouldn’t have it any other way!
In saying all that, we do have some criteria when accepting a child into our house, we have measures to ensure our children are not in danger, we DO put our family first! And by family I don’t mean only the ones that share our genetic make up. We consider the impact on all family members before agreeing to a placement.
And what about the impact on my marriage?
The impact has been a greater respect, a deeper love and a stronger bond. How could I have anything but admiration, love and respect for the woman that cares for these kids so deeply and so passionately. How could I be anything but overcome with emotion when she sang to that child? I always knew that she had a huge heart, but I have seen how deep it really goes when things get real. How strong she really is, and how hard she will fight if the people she cares about need her to.
Fostering DOES affect my family! I put my family first, and that is another reason why we foster!
I couldn’t do that!
It’s so easy to forget about all the kids in need (which is far more than you probably imagine), it’s easy because for the most part they are hidden from view. We see someones tragedy on Facebook and many people gather together to help out, which is fantastic, but these children are just as deserving, and in just as much need of help, but they are invisible to most people.
If you look the other way it’s easy to keep walking past the lost child. But could you look into their tear soaked face and tell them that you care too much to help? That you’re too busy to help? I couldn’t do that!
Live in my own happy little bubble while children that I could help suffer? – I couldn’t do that!
Put my comparatively small amount of emotional suffering ahead of relieving an innocent child a huge amount? – I couldn’t do that!
Criticise and blame the people trying to help while doing nothing myself? – I couldn’t do that!
So there we sat, together, on the floor of the unit. My girlfriend and I.
An old, worn out unit, in an old worn out building. The rent was as cheap as it gets, yet still more than we could afford. The kitchen cupboards were falling apart, and their contents were as empty as our stomachs.
We were dead broke! She had suffered an injury at work and had to take time off. No compensation, no income, no savings. I was a 2nd year apprentice on award rates (much less than the dole), we took no handouts or benefits, and once rent was paid, there was little left for food and electricity.
To truly understand the situation is difficult, perhaps impossible, for those that have never gone without food when pains in their stomach demanded it and when their heart so desperately desired it. To see people at the supermarket put items in their trolleys without calculating every last cent, without double checking prices, looking for cheaper options, hoping they can pay for enough to eat at least twice a day (but knowing they can’t) engenders a despair that can’t be conveyed. It’s not envy or jealousy, its hopelessness.
I cant help but smile when I recall the joy I felt when I discovered a no name brand of cooking oats for 70 cents a bag. For $1.40 we would have breakfast for the week! We couldn’t afford fancy breakfast items like cereal or that combination of bread, butter and spreads.
But we sat on the floor … together … we looked into each other eyes … and we were as happy as any two people could be.
The simple touch of a hand, a kind smile, shared stories of better times, compassion, understanding and a laugh or two. We were happy despite our poverty. No, we were more than happy, it is one of my fondest memories and a time I would give so much to relive.
On that floor, with nothing to our names, hunger pains in our belly, we held hands and we connected. For a short time the world and all its problems evaporated from our consciousness. Nothing seemed to exist beyond this connection, beyond this amalgamation of the souls.
We had it all.
Suddenly she remembered an old dusty, half drunk bottle of liquor placed in the back of the cupboard and long forgotten. Never before, and never since, have I experienced such exultation at the discovery of a bottle of alcohol.
The liquor was a cheap variety, we drank from old chipped mugs, though to our minds they served as well as the finest crystal flutes holding the finest champagne.
We talked and we listened, we heard more than just the words. We cared deeply about the dreams, goals, fears and sadness that each other experienced, yet we gave no thought about how others viewed us. We knew that some friends, and some family didn’t approve of our choice to be together (they told us directly), but we didn’t care, we knew we had each other and no amount of approval from others, and no amount of worldly possessions could in anyway enhance what we had. We would get by, we would face all obstacles together.
So now I sit in our comfortable home with all the modern necessities such as air conditioning, double car garage, 4 bedrooms, pool, play equipment for the kids, high speed internet connection, playstation’s and PC’s and tablets, flat screen TV’s and so on. Rarely thinking twice when choosing which of the wide variety of foods I should select when venturing to the fridge, simply preempting some future desire to eat.
So why then do I look back with such nostalgia? Why do I long to relive those harsh and unforgiving times? Why don’t I feel an order of magnitude happier now that I have wealth that is an order of magnitude greater? Why doesn’t my bottle of well aged single malt whisky fill me with the same excitement and anticipation as that old dusty bottle from the back of the cupboard? Why was it that I felt more pleasure moving into that broken down old apartment where I could be with my love, than when we paid off our first home?
Why? Because materialism is an illusion. In many ways, the absence of possessions free’s us to see the true treasures in life. The challenges, the disappointment, the hard times, they crystallise what is important, and what is just ego and narcissism.
Wealth is a game of diminishing returns. The more we have, the less value we place on our possessions and the greater the need to have more. A couple of dollars doesn’t bring the joy of knowing you will eat. Food is expected, we instead seek fine dining, takeaway, entertainment, we deserve it after all, we earned it, we worked so hard. The narcissism creeps in and starts to rob us of our humanity.
We get caught up in providing our children with the best start, the best schooling, the best opportunities in careers and sport, to not “go without”, but too often we miss the most valuable gift, the gift that will arm them to take on the world. The gift of our time, our love our interest and our heart. We deny them the gift of hardship, of struggle. In doing so we deny them the clarity of purpose. We work long hours to provide, we trade the most precious of gifts in exchange for an illusion. We sacrifice our limited time for gadgets and toys.
We must be vigilant, and remind ourselves of what is important, and then put that first.
What I would give to relive our night sitting on the floor!
Young love, simplicity, dreams and togetherness.
We had it all ….. but if we pause, take the time to listen, to care, to really see each other and reconnect, to put each other first, we can discover that … we have it all!!
More than 20 years on and the sweet sound of a little girls voice echoes as clearly in my mind as the day it was created…..”Uncle Dee Van” (Uncle Steven) she called with a mischievous grin, head tilted a little forward and with the delightful innocence of a child that time steals away all too quickly. The call marked the beginning of a routine I knew well and cherished.
Our time was especially precious as she lived many hours drive away, and so when her mother brought her to visit we spent all our time together. Each day I would take her to the park where we would climb the equipment, role play shop keepers, captaining a boat and anything else she felt like. It was not all ad-hoc though, she had a plan…. she would lure me to the park with promises of play, then when the time was right I would see her look across the road to the little corner store where the lollies were. “Uncle Dee Van, do you want to go for a walk?”. I was fooled every time, first the park, then the walk, then into the shop. Before I knew it I was buying lollies again. She tricked me every time, so cunning, so witty, I didn’t stand a chance.
Recently, during a trip back to the area I grew up, I went for a walk to the park. I stood staring at the empty play equipment, the only movement was the gentle swaying of the trees in the breeze. The corner store had been closed for many years, the equipment aged. There was a complete absence of laughter, of squeals, of playing children. The park stood empty, and suddenly, so did my heart.
Time, once again, had stolen what was so precious and valuable, and I knew all to well, that it would continue to steal from me all that matters, for as long as I draw breath.
That amazing little girl has gone. We will never again play shop, or run around on the grass, or tickle each other. I wont lift her in the air, or help her climb, nor will we eat lollies together. I wont comfort her when she falls and cries, or laugh with her when she makes up silly jokes. I wont again drive her to the park, buckle her seatbelt, or feel her little hand in mine. I’ll never again hear her call me “Uncle Dee Van”, or hear her at my door in the morning trying to contain her excitement of my waking. That beautiful girl that I loved so much, no longer exists.
That beautiful girl has now been replaced by a beautiful young woman.
When I look at her, I still see that little girl some where inside, and I hope that at least some of those memories are still there for her too.
But the woman before me is not that little girl, and I am not that young uncle. We are different people.
It’s not her, it’s not me either.
Two entities, tied only to their past by neural patterns stamped into a self replicating machine. Our connection, the intersection of undoubtedly varying recollections of some past events.
It is a reminder of what is important. A reminder that nothing lasts.
People may say things like “If I ever lost them”, perhaps they should say “If I suddenly lost them” because the truth is you ARE losing them. You are losing them right now!
Appreciate the people in your life. Love them, connect and share with them… NOW! Because they wont be there tomorrow. Tomorrow they will be ever so slightly different, and before you realise they will be gone forever.
I would have been no more than 10 years old, I still remember the humid summer evening as I stood out the front of my house looking to the sky. I gazed in wonderment at a magnificent blend of pink and violet textures scattered across the heavens. A truly amazing display that caused me to take pause in wonder. Excited by the show, I desperately sought to share the experience, and it just happened to be that my mother was on her way to gather the children in for dinner.
Mum! Look at the sky! Isn’t it amazing?
What my mother replied with was I am sure, little more than a passing trivia, but it would be the catalyst for decades of reflection and an insight that has echoed throughout my life.
She said …
“Take a good look, because you will never see that sunset again. You will see many more sunsets, you will even see sunsets just as beautiful as this one, but none of them will be exactly the same. So stop and take a good look, because once it is gone, it will be gone forever”
At that very moment, my childish perspective of the world transcended into a sudden awakening….. this moment, this sunset moment, was finite, fleeting. A feeling of loss swept over me as the sky changed before my eyes, fading slowly, retreating from the impending darkness. I was helpless to stop, or even slow down the process. For the first time in my life I really understood the value of the present moment. No matter how much I wanted the moment to last, regardless of how hard I fought to hold on, the time would pass and there was nothing I could do to stop its passing. The moment could not be retrieved, relived, changed.
Our lives are filled with Sunset Moments. Moments of pure joy. Holding your child for the first time (or the 10,000th), a connection with a good friend, the long loving gaze into the eyes of your lover when nothing else seems to exist. For the most part these moments are brief and all too often their immense value is not fully recognized until the moment has passed.
Sunset Moments is about learning to spot when you are in a moment of value, and when you do, making the most of it. We can’t change the past, we don’t know what the future holds, all we have is now, and no guarantee of anything else. All things come to an end, both good and bad. Live wholly and completely in the moment, because it will be gone before you know it…….gone……forever!
Sunset Moments 