HANDLING DEATH WITH FOSTER CHILDREN

 When you foster you are acting in loco parentis. Looking after someone else's children. Teachers do it all day, but hand the children back to their real parents when the bell goes. We are 24/7.

Latin isn't my strong point, but it's a term that stays in my mind partly because the loco bit hints at the crazyness of fully parenting someone else's child, although that's not the intention in this phrase.

Parenting one's own child can be daunting enough, but at least youknow where your child has come from in kife and where she's got to along the wat, because you've been with them every step.

Not so with a foster child. You've no way of knowing their full set of experiences to date, so you don't know where thet are at with various moral things, or the birds and the bees.

Or issues such as the Royal family.

Or death.

So; it's been an interesting week coping with the various emotions and feelings that the passing of the Queen has generated.

See, I've mentioned this somewhat shocking incident from my childhood before, but it's very relevant so I'll run over it again.

The death of the Queen is the biggest such passing in the UK since the death of Winston Churchill. I remember that Churchill's failing health became the focus of the nation during the final hours of his decline. The country knew what was coming, and the TV channels all had hourly updates on his condidtion. They all ended with the solemn promise that;

"There will be another bulletin in an hour."

These bulletins continued all day.

Eventually my youngest brother, who was about 5 or 6 years old at the time, burst into tears.

"Of course he's dying!" he sobbed "They keep putting another bullet in him every hour!"

I was only 12 or so at the time myself, and I learned a big lesson. Kids misunderstand, they misinterpret.

A public death can lead to all sorts of private turmoil, especially with the English knack of not talking about things.

That knack extends to many children in care. They often prefer not to talk, maybe because they used to have to keep a low profile in the house.

I had one child stay with us who hadn't had a meal prepared by anyone other than herself as far back as she coud remember, that was how invisible she'd learned to make herself. She was eight when social services learned of her.

When such poor interaction is constant, misunderstandings can grow into towering misconceptions. Take conception itself; a parent and child who stayed with us, the parent believed that if you ate ice cream during pregnancy your baby would be born blue. Someone had heard and misunderstood the term 'blue baby' and attached it to something they thought they knew about; ice cream, rather than ask around and find out about low oxygen levels in babies.

So; the death of the monarch provides fostering folk with an opportunity to help children with one of life's big challenges, namely finding a place for death in our lives.

I'm writing during the lull between the Queen's passing and her funeral. Every newspaper front page, every news bulletin, it's everywhere. There was no football last Saturday, ITV took down all comedy programmes, there was no escaping gun salutes, black armbands and black ties.

Hmmm. How to play this one so that it not only doesn't upset the children of other people who we happen to be caring for, but moreover help them find a good place for it.

First off, I tried to identify my own attitude; the Queen was a very decent person, from what one gathers. She worked her socks off. She loved horses and dogs. She had a sense of humour.

Finding my own perspective wasn't going too well to be honest. All the above I believe, but couldn't get a handle on the whole thing.

Then I read a newspaper article in which a celebrity said that meeting the Queen was "like talking to your mum"

And it all fell into place.

I told the children the reason she was loved and will be missed is because she was a mum. We all miss mum when she's not around.

The Queen was mum and gran to a family that were a bit all over the place (to put it mildly). 

You can see how this line chimed with foster children.

The Queen's loved ones had messed-up marriages, squabbled with each other, one even had the police wondering about their behaviour. 

But she never gave up on them, always stood by them, understood their problems even if she coudn't solve them for them.

I hope (but it's early days yet) that this line of explanation as to the affection for the Queen bears fruit in the relationship between the children I'm caring for at the moment, and their loved ones.

No-one is here for ever, enjoy who you have while you can.