Polar Fours

On Fridays I have one client that I see: a four-year-old boy whose life is okay, but far from ideal. His dad was laid off about a year ago and took a job in a city 4 hours away in another state. This boy sees his dad maybe a few times a month, and his dad hasn't quite grasped how important his role is in his son's life, unfortunately. His home in chaotic and stability is something he knows little of, as his older sister went to live with their grandmother for her severe behaviors. He also struggles sleeping alone at night, which is the subject of why I am writing about him today. He often speaks of death, mostly because he has been surrounded by it: numerous pets that he was heavily attached to, as well as relatives he had close relationships with. Yesterday while in the car I inquired how he slept last night. He informed me that he had nightmares and didn't really sleep because "the dead skeletons were trying to pull me down". He continued to say something to the effect of the dead skeletons ripping either his or their own skin off. My heart was heavy listening to a child so young tell something so horrific. I wish that life didn't have to be that way from him. I thought at that moment, if I could somehow take what he has to deal with and put it on myself, I would do it in a heartbeat. There is just no way that someone so young should have to be scared of such things.

The other four-year-old that I see had received good news. He and his two siblings went to a court date to see if their father in California would receive custody of them (they had been with their mother when SRS took custody from her for neglect). I saw him as his case manager for the (hopefully) last time on Thursday. I took him out to get ice cream and then dropped him off at school. We talked about how warm it would be in California and how good it was that he would be flying in a plane for the first time and going to live with his father. I got out of the car and as I opened his door he looked at me and said, "I will miss you." Simple words from a child can reach deep. I told him that I will miss him too and told him that I enjoyed all the fun we had together. I walked with him to his school door and he walked in without looking back.

Just another week in case management. Good news, disturbing news, it all runs together and life goes on. I hope and pray that the next four years for both these boys are nowhere near as difficult as their first four years have been.