Aunt and Uncle for a Weekend

No real names have been used for the kids in this article

Dana, a pint-sized whirlwind of energy and bubbly emotion, doesn't slip in the door; she invades our house, commanding even the walls to open their hearts to her. Sam comes in quietly, slides into a cushioned chair without ruffling the air molecules.

We've been doing respite foster care for Morrison Child and Family Services the past few months, giving our hearts to each kid passing through our home. Some come time after time, some only once. Some live with a biological parent on the edge, others have stable foster homes or live with extended family. Some have no idea where or what "home" is.

Yvonne stayed for a week with us last summer before transitioning back to her biological mother, who after a couple years of working through issues was deemed capable of having her children back. We've had no communication with her since, but we cannot forget her ever-frantic pace and her hungry, pensive feel about returning home.

Two kinds of kids are assigned to us. Jill is in therapeutic care with Morrison, a program for kids who've suffered extensive abuse – physical, sexual, emotional – and who require special year-round education and intensive care. Bob is in regular foster care in the state's Department of Human Services. All have "issues" – the stuff that's been shoved into them comes out in all forms of acting out and garbled, porcupine-prickly cries of "love me!"

The needs of these kids, all who have experienced trauma in one form or another in their short lives, can overwhelm all care givers, so we provide much needed respite for those who do the caring – and for the kids a fun visit to the Kenyons. We share our home, our own kids, our chickens and our cats, our garden, our membership at the Community Center swimming pool – and our love.

Kim and I are not experts. We have been through many hours of training for this assignment and are required to complete ongoing training. We also attend a monthly gathering with fellow respite care providers led by our fearless leader, Buddy-with-the-Boston-accent. Mostly we just know how to open our homes to kids who don't have one.

At three, Billy lost his father in an accident. He never knew his bio-mother who was just a passing interest on the part of his dad. From infancy, he's been raised by his devoted grandparents, who at their advanced age cannot keep up with his special educational and emotional needs. The regular respite care we and others provide helps keep Billy at home with them. Their greatest concern is whether they will live long enough to make sure he reaches adulthood intact.

Jana, who doesn't remember her parents either, has been in many foster and group homes since the age of four. Yvonne hurts herself trying to deal with the pains and anger inside. Bob passed through our lives on his way back to a mother he had mixed feelings about. We watched Dana's world fall apart and felt her anger at a mother she clings to even as she knows her mother struggles to love her.

They come in all ages until they age out of the system at 18. The kids I've described are between 8 and 14, often emotionally and academically three or so years behind their peers. The majority are white, though other races are represented. We pray for these kids, whether or not we see them again. And we turn our worries about their futures into prayers that God will somehow give them a miracle – a successful entry into adulthood.

Friends ask if any of these kids can be adopted. As a society we put limits on what the state can force parents to do. And separation from biological parents, even abusive ones, is trauma that experts are only beginning to fathom. Even though these may be lovable kids, loving them full time is a stretch for most families. So much pain has been poured into these kids, it takes a village to raise them and love all that junk out of them through therapy, education, medical care, and just plain wholesome family warmth. Obviously stability is a priority concern and as respite foster parents we can help maintain that stability by being an occasional oasis.

Commonly as these kids pass through our home, we say to each other, "Maybe we should keep this one." They've been separated from their real mom (where are the dads?) or they're having to be transitioned out of their foster family. But we know our mission for each of these kids is to be the respite foster parents whom they visit monthly or occasionally or for a week in the summer or maybe even just once. We take them swimming, play board games with them, shoot some hoops in our driveway, let them feed the chickens and pet the cats, eat our food and talk with us. We let them experience "normal" for just a few, short hours and pray they'll come to know the Father's love that will never fail them.

Since our program started a year ago, Buddy reports that respite care nights per month have shot up to over 100. We are among a small but growing number of respite foster parents, a mere handful for a metro area of a million, and more are desperately needed. If you or someone you know in the Portland area can get involved in either the fulltime Therapeutic or the Crisis Respite programs, call Buddy Cushman or Roxy Wendland at 503-736-6699 and tell them Howard & Kim sent you. And Roxy would love to come speak at your church's mission groups, small groups, or community organizations. After years of being Mom to such kids, does she ever have a story to tell that will crush your heart!