Painful patience

I feel like I am watching Fort's heart melt. Painfully so. I hear if you have frostbite it is quite painful to thaw out. Who knows when the time came that he had more emotions than he could bear. And so he just put it on ice. And now, with his skin drinking in kisses and his fuzzy head nestling under mine, he is beginning to feel again. 

It is so hard to watch him. Struggle with feeling. I take comfort from the fact that he lets me be his comfort. He rejects the arms of the house mothers when he goes into one of his crying jags. Even though he often goes limp in my arms, he does not push me off. And it rolls off him in waves, first slow, even moans growing into sobs and sometimes the anger just overcomes him. His little body twists and kicks against mine, but not against me. What is he fighting?  Who?  Does it have a face?

There is fear that this will linger, that it will be disruptive to our family, and that I will not be filled with this painful patience at home because I will have more than just him to balance.  Under that fear lies a calm pool, and in it I see Fort's real self.   He is a sweet affectionate boy who was not lucky. Please don't call him lucky. He will not feel that, even when he is happy and safe. He will always have a hole from these years which were robbed from him.  But after he goes through the painful process of connecting again, he will find that boy again.  

Although yes, I guess there is a part of me that feels like though he may never feel it, he is one of the lucky ones.   So many stories swirling in my heart, each a painful reminder of how cruel people can be.  All of these children who will never get a chance to make it.  And then smacking up against these stories like a tsunami are these remarkable people who are changing the lives of those they can. And the currents of generosity are enough for me to make peace with humanity. 

For the orphanage where I have found Fort is a remarkable place, like a halfway house for the bereft to re-enter the world. The children have gone through the shock of a bed to sleep in, food at dependable intervals, toys on every shelf, and clothes that are just theirs. When I bring him home, it will seem like gross injustice to have such luxury for just one family, but perhaps his little brain will be more accepting,   And be able to move from one painful world to a softer place.