When You Have to Say Goodbye

The bag was packed. The caseworker was late. And the house was quiet.

We sat on the couch and just… waited.

He didn’t understand. How could he?

And I didn’t know what to say. So I didn’t say much. Just held him. Prayed over him. Told him he was loved.

When they finally drove away, I closed the door and collapsed.

Saying goodbye doesn’t get easier. It just gets heavier.

But I’d do it again. Because he needed a safe place. And for a season — that place was us.

And maybe goodbye isn’t the end. Maybe it’s a seed.

Planted in love. Watered by tears. And remembered forever.