A Little Piece of All of Us

I sometimes (all the time) think of the lives devistated by such a corrupt child welfare system. If there are 500,000 children in foster care in this country, give or take. And each one of those children has a mother and father, brothers and sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins...you can just about bet everyone of us has been touched by this living, breathing monster of an organism that is Child Welfare.
Sometimes I try to do the math, and place a total dollar amount on this monsters head. It usually ends in a dizzy spell I try to pass off as a hot flash. I simply cannot wrap my brain around the enormity of it. Can't do it. Tried.

My daughter Athena lives exactly 3.2 miles from me, and less than a mile from her father. I know the address, as I've sent birthday cards, and this year a Bratz Genie Magic doll that Al picked out for her. I couldn't help secretly enjoying the fact her adoptive mother would immediately believe the doll of Satan, as all things not Southern Baptist are.
We never get a reply.
Al misses his sister every day. We shout out to the Universe every night, that Athena be protected, safe and warm. But mostly we hope against hope she is loved. True.

On Monday of this weeek I got a wild hair, as I'm prone to now and then, and made a phone call to the office of the Attorney (lightly I use that word) who represented me as an indigent in my juvenile case. (their fathers family bought him no less than five high dollar attorneys through the course of as many years, to no avail) It seems as though Mr. P. has fled the state of Oklahoma, Grapes of Wrath style to Cali, and along with him every shred of evidence in my case. Suprise suprise.

My parental rights were obtained fraudulently. I have proof, blah, blah, blah. What I don't have proof of is whether or not Athena is thriving, happy, joyous and free. I tell myself she loves Athena like her own flesh and blood despite the $1,000 a month in federal subsidies she receives for Athena's "Special needs", special needs acquired as the result of two prescribed valium taken the month before I gave birth. I tell myself she has a valid reason for not keeping her promise of a sibling relationship, but my creativity is lacking in this area.

What I do know is this: I would'nt want to be in her shoes, not now, and not in the years to come as Athena begins to spread her wings to fly. For this woman's wounds and inability to take flight in her own right brought her to a place of such greed, fear and personal pain, that she was willing to do anything to get what she demanded. As if Athena was a thing.
Rather than tear this child my direction any longer, I let go.

And when Athena spreads those glorious wings buried underneath that shame, when she finally begins to test the air current, timidly at first, then diving, spinning, floating high above the luminous cloudline...
I know in my heart where she'll land.