THE MISSING EAR BUD

Ged is now proper gone. He was the soon-to-be 18 year old who came to us for a short spell, and part of our fostering brief was to gear him up for the outside world. Only a short time but even the ones who only stay for a weekend stay in your mind for the rest of your life. I’m not sure if it’s the same the other way round and that we fosterers have as big an impact on them as the young people have on us.

I’ve talked with our Blue Sky Social Workers about how they all stick in my heart and mind, they say it’s a healthy sign of how we try to offer attachment from the get go. 

It’s not a painful thing, quite the opposite. The only ache is that you hope with all your might that they are ok.

With Ged, it’s so far so good. He’s happy with his independence, or at least, if he isn’t he’s not letting on. He’s looking after himself; eating well, not staying late out and partying except ‘weekends and bank holidays’. 

He’d been promised by his somewhat dodgy father a windfall to set himself up on his 18th birthday, which ‘hasn’t happened yet’, but he’s ok financially thanks to a brilliant scheme Blue Sky do.

Basically; they open a savings account for the child and pay into it every month they’re in care. The money comes out of the allowance we fostering folk get for each child. It’s not a vast amount, I don’t even notice it. If I was good with paperwork and spreadsheets I’d know how much it is. But I’m not, so sorry. If you’re interested I’m sure it’s on Blue Sky’s website somewhere.

Ged had been in care for yonks, so he received a decent four figure sum. 

Now, the question you might be asking is this; since there’s usually no contact between Carers and children after a child leaves Care, how come I know all this?

Easy. See, Ged is an adult now and can do what he likes.

So. A few days after he’d been driven off by his SW my phone pinged. It was Ged;

“Have you seen an ear bud?”

“No. Where might it be?”

“Maybe in my bedroom?”

I loved that; “MY BEDROOM”

“I’ll have a look”

Obviously I searched high and low, no luck.

I messaged him back;

“Can’t find it. When was the last time you had them both together?”

“Maybe the last night. I fell asleep on the sofa.”

I went and checked down the sides of all the sofa cushions and was about to message him again. But sometimes it’s easier and quicker to chat. So I phoned him, and we spoke. For nearly ten minutes. About everything and nothing. It was wonderful, and I could tell he found it great too.

We haven’t had any contact since, but there’s not a day goes by without me hoping against hope that next time I move a mat or rummage the contents of the fruit bowl where we ‘store’ random objects, I’ll come across the missing ear bud.

What I’d give to be able to phone him and say;

“I’ve found it mate!”

Then a thought flashed into my mind. Maybe he hasn’t lost an ear bud. 

Maybe he just wanted to hear his ‘mum’.

I know she wanted to hear her ‘son’.