It's Wednesday once again, and after a brief rest the blog hop is back. I hope that everyone across the Atlantic had a very enjoyable Thanksgiving holiday. I'd say you should feel rested but after hearing some stories about peoples holiday weekends I'm sure you're probably having the rest now!
So for those unfamiliar with this blog hop the rules are as follows:
- There is one photo and five words, all of which need to be included in your story
- There is a maximum limit of 500 words
- You have until the following Wednesday to complete your post
- When you have finished and posted, link up with one of the blog hosts and let them know you're joining in
- The main rule is to not take it too seriously, but as the hosts admit it's unlikely that any writers will not take it seriously. As long as you don't fret/panic/pass out/hyperventilate/lose sleep/run in fear over it, then they are happy
This weeks photo is:
The words are: iron, moon, university, bee, bench
And here is my contribution:
Hard to Let Go
I let Jackson get a little way ahead of
me with Chester, I didn't want him to see the tears in my eyes. This
was one of our favourite places to walk, at this time of year the
leaves crunched noisily beneath our boots. I'd let him get as far as
the bench up ahead and then
I'd have to sit down with him and explain. I wasn't sure if I could
keep myself together for long enough but I was going to have to try.
I had to stay strong for him, it would only make things harder
otherwise.
I'd
been looking after Jackson for just over a year, the longest resident
that I'd had since entering into the fostering programme. They'd
warned me that sometimes it could be hard to let go once a more
permanent home had been found for them. The last two children I'd
looked after were only babies, and I was surprised how easy it was to
hand them over, knowing they were going to a loving family. But with
Jackson he was quite a bit older, we could actually talk and get to
know each other. He'd been very quiet when he first came to me and
had terrible trouble sleeping. Quite often I'd check on him in the
evening when he'd gone to bed, and he'd be sat at the window inside
the curtains staring up at the moon.
I tried not to think too much about what had happened to the children
before they came to me, I just had to concentrate on helping them to
feel safe.
He
settled in nicely after a few weeks, and we established a nice
routine that worked for both of us. He'd hit it straight off with
Chester, the pair were inseparable now. Something else that would
only make this process harder.
I
hadn't even thought about how I'd approach the subject with him. I
needed to be careful, I didn't want to undo all the good progress
we'd made. He'd told me about his dreams, of growing up in a loving
home, eventually going off to university
so he could get a good job and look after his own family properly. He
was already sure he didn't want his own children to grow up like him.
Listening to him melted my heart, and in this business that wasn't
always a good thing. You were expected to lock your emotions away in
an iron vault.
As we
reached the bench I called for him to sit down with me, my mind
trying to calm before I started. In the trees behind me I noticed a
lone bee rustling in
the leaves and I thought to myself what a simple life they must lead.
Word
count: 459
Why don't you have a go?
That was wonderfully written. Highly emotional.
ReplyDeleteThanks Christine. It can be hard to tell sometimes if you've managed to convey the emotion you feel when writing.
DeleteBeautifully done Heather :-)
ReplyDeleteThank you xxx
DeleteHaha. This made me tear up a bit more than it may have if it wasn't a photo of my son. Lol. Great story, Heather.
ReplyDeleteAnother great job, Heather! I love where you took me. Glad the writing prompt's back so I could both participate and enjoy what everyone comes up with. Well done!
ReplyDelete