Sweet Love Story

Some love stories are heartbreaking. Others not so much.

Today is two years this baby boy has been in the foster care system. On Valentine’s Day of 2018 he was placed in a caring and loving foster care home. It would take another two months for us to find out where he was.

On the day my husband and I were flying to Peru the GAL in Florida contacted us. She sent pictures of him. He had just turned one a few days before. My husband and I created a new journey with him in our hearts. We were heartbroken and elated simultaneously.

When Luke was born I begged social services in Florida to not let my daughter take him home. She had already lost her first born whom we adopted. But they did nothing. Month after month I would call. They had my number but she kept moving to different counties and that was never followed up.

It’s easy to screw with the system. There is no national registry to inform different counties or states of prior child abuse.

I would text with my daughter asking how she was and how he was. Everything was “always fine.” Even on that Valentine’s Day I sent her a message since she wouldn’t speak to me on the phone.

A month later my deceased father came in a dream and told me that this baby boy was in foster care. I texted my daughter at 5am that day and asked when he was removed. She didn’t know how I knew. She told me he had been removed on Valentine’s. She was now pregnant with her third child.

And after we were finally in contact with Florida it would take another six months to get him into our care even though I am his grandmother and only next of kin.

This little boy was afraid of men. He was malnourished and had stomach issues. The foster family were angels with him. He couldn’t crawl or hold himself up. And today he doesn’t stop running. Today he is the funniest itty bitty comedian who adores everyone, especially my husband (his daddy).

My daughter (his mother) arrived into my life at the age of 9 from a horrible orphanage in Romania. She’s not a monster. She’s the victim of a broken system there. And all four of her children are victims of the system here that requires strong willed folks to fight it.

These are the love stories that are hard to share. These are the parts of humanity that we don’t often want to explore. And it’s okay because one day the system won’t be set up to protect the adult. It will be set up for the protection of the child who has parents that really cannot be parents no matter how many classes or therapy or whatever they finish within the time given to reunify with their kids. Some folks, due to mental disabilities or addiction or other circumstances, will never be able to care for their children. Yet, the law is set up to give them a chance and hope that will never happen.

How do we change it? It starts with creating new laws about the children. How does this happen? Legislators and an array of political obstacles. Where does the money come from? Same place money appears for wars and catastrophic issues. Because this is a catastrophic issue in this country.

He is our future. 650,000 children in the system, yearly, are our futures. I refuse to have them fail or be victims of a broken system. They deserve better. We all deserve the very best.

Two years today he’s been in foster care and there is still zero resolution or an idea of when we will be able to legally adopt him.

His second sister and baby brother are also in care of the state. Both being cared by loving folks.

Love stories also have happy endings. Luke has one. And so many others because of folks who are determined to care for children who have been deeply neglected. There are so many angelic souls opening their hearts and homes to children. And many want to adopt them….

Happy Valentine’s Day, darlings. This little dude is one of my favorite gifts today.

Precious Acceptance

Yesterday after we dropped Kali off at school Luke (2-1/2 y/o) says loudly from his car seat, “Mommy, your daddy says hi!”

“Your daddy?” I asked.

“Nooooo! My daddy at work. YOUUUURRR daddy. He’s sitting here.”

I answered with strain as tears flooded my eyes, “Okay. Tell him hi for me too.”

I looked through the rear view mirror as he looked at the seat next to him and he said, “She say hi.”

My dad transitioned over 26 years ago. When I had my near death experience several years ago he was the only one who showed up to send me right back here. My father wasn’t much in my life. But I knew he loved me dearly. Luke’s message was endearing. Luke has never seen a picture of my father but I’m certain he knew exactly who he was.

I went to take a Kundalini yoga class right after I dropped him off at school. I’ve never had that kind of yoga before. I realized how deeply I hold my breath. I felt I was holding my breath the entire way to the studio. And I released, shedding old tears onto the mat, curled into child’s pose and grateful for no judgment there. Something opened up like a flood. It was beautiful to just allow it.

Memories visited. When I was Luke’s age I was visited by loved ones who had passed on and I never met. I met them in my room daily. My mother didn’t know what to do with me. She took me to doctors. To therapist. To spiritualists. I learned to block it out. I learned early on that this was not a gift. It was obviously something bad. At around 6 I finally stopped seeing or feeling. I would close my eyes tightly and wished they went away.

I don’t want that…ever…for my children. His message was profound in its simplicity. I had been thinking about my dad during the weekend. It was a sweet confirmation that those who pass are always nearby.

I hold sacred space for loved ones who have transitioned. I don’t always see them but I feel them, or hear them. They come in as flashes. Or knowings. I’m not a medium. I have just learned to pay attention to guidance. And most loved ones have such quirks and sweet ways of letting us know they are near us.

How about you? Do you see dead people? How have you dealt with it in this society? Please share below.

Walking Children into Safety

In 2018 there were approximately 687,000 children in foster care.

Out of that amount 63,000 were adopted that year.

52% were male. 48% were female.

About 30% of the children in foster care have severe emotional, behavioral and developmental issues. This number is rising with lack of services for each individual.

There are over 329 million people living in the United States. So when you see that number it seems like a small amount of foster children. It becomes an after thought…someone else’s problem. What can we do that hasn’t already been done, right?!

Many children go back to their parents or primary caretakers – (56% of them). Others get lost in the system. Some grow out of the foster care since they become of legal age (and many fall into the cycle of their parents because they have owned the stigma of foster children). There is a large demographic of blacks, biracial, Latinos, and other minorities.

I don’t do charts well. My brain is not very analytical. I feel. That’s what I do. So when I see the staggering numbers of this reality I cringe. It stops me. My heart breaks open. I have lived it with my own children and the fractured system. Not just in this country but a third world country.

How can we fix the system? There is a drug epidemic. There is a rise in abuse. There are economic issues and social problems thrown in there as well. There is a lack of awareness of what happens to many of these kids who slip through the cracks in many states. The courts and social care systems are depleted. There is not enough man power or money to help these children, the parents, and the foster caretakers. There is just no consistency from one state to another…therefore, children are often not able to get the best care.

The system is set up to reunify the children with their parents. In many cases this becomes a cycle of psychological welfare for the children. They get taken out of their homes, put into a stranger’s house, and then return to parents who really cannot properly parent their children. And a small percentage die in the hands of parents who get them back.

It’s staggering. Overwhelming. Inexcusable. These are the future adults of this nation.

Let’s start with the basics.

I would like to know if anyone here knows of folks who help start non-profits. I have several ideas of how to start small into changing the system. Please message me. It’s time! Dharma.1111@hotmail.com

The Awakened Child

awakened spiritual child

A few mornings ago, on our way to school, our 5 y/o tells me that she had a bad dream during the night. I asked her to share it.

“I was taken by a big skinny black man and he was going to kill me. He was yelling horrible ugly words at me. I was scared cause I knew he really wanted me dead. I am not allowed to repeat those bad words.”

I reassured her that it was a nightmare and that no one would ever hurt her.

“Mama, it felt so real!”

I held onto the stirring wheel holding back tears. This was no nightmare. This was a memory that has been locked into her cellular memories.

Kali’s biological dad wanted to kill her when she was three months old. Her depiction of him was exact. She’s technically my granddaughter. Her biological dad hurt my daughter while trying to strangle her in a public place and she was able to come undone. The paramedics were called and he took Kali and left the scene. She was sent to the hospital. He disappeared with Kali for over 24 hours.

My daughter, whom I adopted when she was 9 y/o from Romania, called me from Florida to tell me he had her and she was scared he would kill her. Luckily she had angels protecting her. He was drunk and loaded up on drugs when he walked into the police station many hours later and asked them to take Kali away from him before he would kill her. He was arrested then and the rest is a matter of divine intervention. My husband (then he was my fiance) and I rushed to Florida from North Carolina and picked them both. I was also blessed that my in-laws took care of the situation until we got there.

My daughter is mentally ill and mentally disabled and unstable. She cannot raise a child. In the midst of her move we realized she was also hurting Kali. The Department of Social Services got involved and after two months of investigation we were able to get Kali into our homes. The horrific details of what Kali endured in the first five months of her life are inconceivable.

She was a scared little baby. She wouldn’t sleep. She was shell shocked (and still is with loud noises). She had been shaken so much we had to get her tested. He had HIV and we had her tested several times just to make sure we didn’t get her sick if we got a cold. We needed to be sure of how to protect her from anything else. Most of all we had to ensure her little soul that she was safe and loved.

Kali is unaware of her history. My daughter lost her rights a year later and we began the adoption process. We, my husband and I, are her parents. We are her safety net. Kali has never once asked why we are white and she’s black. She’s never wondered why I have so many other kids. She doesn’t ask why her baby brother didn’t have a mommy who wanted him when we picked him up a year ago from Florida.

On this particular early morning while she shared her dream I white-knuckled the stirring wheel and began to cry. I couldn’t help it. The human in me felt her pain and fear. She said, “Mama, it’s okay, it was just a bad dream like you said.”

“Kali Bug, daddy and I will make sure this never happens to you.”

“I know. You love me. I also know he doesn’t love himself. I don’t know who the man was but he definitely doesn’t like himself at all. I hope he can get help. He was so scary!”

She went silent in the backseat. Her baby brother, 2 y/o, interrupted the moment with the most genuine words, “Sissy, I woovveeee you. You my sissy.”

The awakened child doesn’t need much to show up. They are able to verbalize emotions with ease because they feel a sense of freedom in sharing. They aren’t here to merely exist. They are here to raise the vibration of this planet. They have come in with clarity. I am no expert on these highly-conscious children coming into our world. But, I am aware of their quick release of traumas stored in their cellular memories.

Kali has on many occasions told her daddy that she liked it better when she was the daddy and he was the kid. She has recounted many memories from other times and places. Their bond is extraordinary. And this is was makes her incredibly wise beyond her years. We encourage her to voice out her dreams and whatever else comes up.

I am a student of both of my grandchildren who are in our care. I am privileged to be entrusted to raise them in the most conscious manner. My husband and I have taken this job as the most important one we will ever have. I am blessed and continue to just show up to whatever they need to teach me daily. And one thing I have learned through all of these children who have passed through my home is that love is the thread that truly ties us together. Whether they are mentally ill or they are struggling with their own demons, love is what bonds us to each other and the rest of the world. Love, patience, acceptance, and acknowledgment is what they need to continue opening up to a world that needs them. They are the shape shifters and warriors of light that are transforming our world.

Your Inner Child

These showed up again in FB a few days ago as TBT. That little girl had such an innocent view of the world. She believed in the moments when love held her hand. She believed she would have many children. At that age I said I would have 10 kids. I drove my mother crazy when I saw a baby in a store. She believed in happy endings. She believed that she could shift a person’s mood by just holding their hand. I look at these pictures and feel my way back there. They were only a year apart. But that one year left me empty. My father left the day before Christmas and never came back. He went to get cigs and disappeared. The little girl with short hair was the cause of chopping my pretty hair off because he loved it so much. I cut it off myself and then had to get it fixed.

It took a long while to return to the heart of the little girl with the long hair.

Your inner child is always there. He or she sits waiting to be acknowledged. Make sure you take time to play. Forgive the past for not being able to know what you know now. Also forgive all those who hurt you.

Return to love. Return to who you were before the world turned you into someone else. You deserve love and peace…then and now.

Your Purpose is your GPS

For a few months my husband and I were prepared for a huge change. We had decided to take another child, my sweet babies’ little sister. Unless a miracle happened and she was able to stay with her foster family (she’s been there since she was born and she’s 15 months old) we would fight to make sure she would come with us.

The energy was in motion. No regrets. No hesitations. We knew what was right. We also felt miracles happening. What seemed to be an impossible situation would be cleared up.

I didn’t share publicly. I did not want to hear one single person judge me on “not another kid, Millie!” Or anything else. I needed to send the vibes to the broken system of Florida foster care and the courts. I needed all my energy to fight for what is the best possible outcome for our granddaughter. So I did. We did. My husband and I talked about it daily. We made changes in our lives and home. We began to prepare for whatever we needed to do. And we did. Every day came closer to vibrational alignment.

Yesterday we heard that the agency will allow for the foster family to keep her just as she’s been. It was a miracle indeed. It has been an ongoing battle that has made many of us truly uncomfortable (to be left in the hands of a privatized company that doesn’t see the welfare of the child but dollar signs). There was a possibility she would be going into an unsafe environment. We still have to go to court in a few weeks but that decision was a tremendous relief, not because we didn’t want her here, but because

she has a family she’s loved since the day she was taken from my daughter.

I share this because the moment you release and surrender to the divine is the moment the universe begins to align with your energy.

You don’t have to share publicly as you struggle. You don’t have to fight naysayers. You just stick with your faith and send the energy out for the best possible outcome.

I know folks will always want the best for you. Some don’t understand your choices. Some will challenge your beliefs. Some will expect you to change your mind. Some will make you feel as if you are insane. But, darling, you DO YOU. You do what you need to do for you and your family.

And, let me share something that is magical…I have come to the acceptance that I have to fight for other children. I recognize now that I’ve been fighting for children’s rights since I was in my 20’s. It hasn’t been only through taking them into my home. It’s been through standing up for a system in our society that is fractured and deeply wounded. I will continue to do so however that shows up.

Our spirituality is a personal fit and wear. I teach and learn through those who have little voices. And I will continue to take in whoever needs it whether in my home or just fighting to keep them safe. I am not asking permission. I am stating a fact instead of having to duck my head down not to cause discomfort around me. Judgment is always available!

Now you…get out there and recognize your truth and your purpose. It might feel like a small defeat or it might be a huge fight. Surrender to the mysticism of what you believe that you are guided at all times.

Blessings. Be guided by the higher powers. I love you.

A Letter to Remember Love

A letter to my two-year old son:

Dear Luke,

This morning I dropped you off in your classroom at the daycare. You ran to your friend who has cerebral palsy. He’s a bit older but due to his disabilities he is in your class.

You hugged him and your face was covered by his facial excess from drooling and snot.

You backed away, “Ewwww!” You said and preceded to clean your face with the inside of your shirt.

Then you took the bottom of your shirt and reached to his face to clean his completely so you could return and give him a real tight hug.

You almost tipped him over, as two little guys clumsily tried to hold love in a balance.

I watched as his face dug into your forehead. You were so happy to see him, to hold him, to love him.

I sobbed making my way out of the classroom to then turn around and go kiss you. I whispered in your ear, “Thank you, baby boy, for showing me compassion.”

You smiled and let me go, waving as you returned to him. “Bye mama!”

I’m so proud of you. Thank you for teaching me how to love unconditionally in a way that exceeds any human expectation.

I cannot wait to witness the endless lessons you will provide for me and the world.

I love you every single day deeper than the previous one. I am blessed.

Mama – 9/13/19