Sometimes I wonder what my adopted children are thinking. Every now and then, they will tell me something that is surprising. Every time that I start to think that a child is finally secure, I get a surprise. At least, that is how it has worked so far.
Our oldest is eight years old and our only child that can really remember a day that he was not with us. I have already related how he recently had to ask if he was still going to be living with us when we tried to sneak him out of the house for a surprise. After four years of life in our family, doubts apparently linger.
On Sunday, he said two things that let me know that the dynamics of what has happened are still on his mind. That morning, we were all in various stages of getting dressed for church. Nancy was fixing breakfast, so I was taking my time getting ready. As I emerged from the shower, four boys rushed into the bathroom and ran in circles around me. Moments before, everything had been calm.
I meant to say something to the effect that I didn’t want them with me at that moment, but this came out of my mouth, “I don’t want you guys………” As I was trying to reconstruct what I wanted to say, he said, “So you want me to go back to being a foster child like I was before I came here?”
I told Nancy about the exchange and we were both perplexed and puzzled as we tried to psychoanalyze the short conversation. Our only conclusion was that he still wonders about it all. I will say that this sometimes makes me insecure, wondering what I have to do to convince him of my commitment to be his father forever.
He said the second thing as he was going to sleep tonight. I always put the five boys to bed and then sit at the top of the stairs until there is peace and quiet. I usually turn off the upstairs hall light and turn on the light on the stairs. He pointed out from his bed that the hall light was still on and I turned it off.
I went into his room. He said that he needed to see my shadow so that he would know that I was sitting on the stairs. He told me that he couldn’t go to sleep if I was not there to protect him. When he was four, there was nobody to protect him. My doubts from earlier in the day slipped away. I kissed him and told him that it was my job to protect him and that he could always count on me, his father.