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.