Crash, bang, wallop. J is showing signs of distress.
“I don’t like this, mum”.
In the middle of the room we are creating a precarious pile of his worldly possessions. J is moving rapidly, wrenching posters down, yanking drawers from under his bed. He is grim. Dust swirls around us.
I turn my back and he hurls a half empty can of deodorant into the newly painted hall. I wince. Tomorrow I will make a start on decorating his room. J’s sense of security is built on order: knowing what he is going to eat for his next meal, knowing when things are going to happen, and knowing where he can find everything that is his. This is a young man whose early years were full of chaos, hunger, and fear.
This evening he is a small child again.
I am linking this post up to the Adoption Social’s Weekly Adoption Shout Out #105.