(Extreme) Heartbreak

Our little cousin has gone back with her father. It is not a good situation any way you look at it. We are willing to keep her here with us, but her father is adamant that they need to stay together, even though they have no place to live. He could stay in transitional housing in the Chicago area, but it's only for adults; we offered to keep the girl and her dog (who, incidentally, is worse than Ava, since not only has he peed and pooped all over our house, he bites and growls as well), but he insists, against all common sense, that they need to stay together. Against my Christian values, I am finding myself really hating this man because he is not acting in her best interest and she is a child. I can see the effects of her upbringing. Although he does love her and has not harmed her physically, he has problems, and cannot provide a stable environment for her right now.

I did not mean to love this girl; I meant to let her into our house, make her feel at home, then say goodbye when the time was right - I did my part. Now I can see that there is not a right time, and my part is not nearly done. But I can't finish it because they are going back to Tucson and I have no say in the matter.

Earlier, the phone rang while I was downstairs. When I ran up to get it, I tripped and hit my shin on the metal edge of the basement stairs; as an adult, the rule is that I don't cry when I get a boo-boo, but this boo-boo hurt so badly, I fell apart. My whole leg from the knee down felt as though it was destroyed. It doesn't look too bad, so I think that my accident was God's way of giving me license to cry just as hard as I needed to. And did I ever. David listened to me rant and rave and sob and decry the injustices done to a little girl who only knows what she is told and has absolutely no say in her life right now.