Forever, or a Long, Long Time: A Moving Middle Grade Novel About Adoption, Trust, and Love That Multiplies for Children

We're made of good stuff, but you have to work to get it. Our good stuff is cased under hard shells that will cut your fingers and burn your hands if you try to break through them. Our good stuff is hidden under layers of guts and gross yellow goo that will make you say "yuck" the whole time your cleaning it away with a paper towel. And just when you think you have gotten all the bad stuff out of the way, there's more guts, more shells, and more goo. But we're made of really good stuff. If you work really, really hard.

I guess it's hard to forgive anyone when you don't have a sense of who you are, Dad says.

And remember that just because something is scary and difficult in the moment doesn't mean it's bad. We usually feel better after the worst moments. Sometimes we need to go through the dark tunnel in order to see the light.

Yes: you should know my person is going to be someone else’s mom. You should know I couldn’t make her happy enough. You should know that I didn’t want to mess up trying to make Person happy by not making you happy too.

We believe in Forever. We do. But our belief is thin. It’s a tightrope suspended above a deep, dark canyon. We stand on it and wobble. The minute someone shakes the rope, we could fall into the dark abyss of foster care.

Julian is screaming for a roll. That’s in my imagination. I’m imagining him screaming for a roll. In my head, he’s terrified he’ll never eat again because that roll isn’t hidden in the folds of his pants or the back of his shoes.

I come from the place where the words get stuck. My brother comes from the hiding spots in his closet. We were maybe born like the rest of you. Born to a woman who gave us things like red rubber balls and pink dresses. But we come from the hidden corners. The dark spots in the lungs or closets where secrets get lodged, the kind of secrets that takes years to wiggle loose. We come from places where things get stuck and hidden and lost. But person, and people, love us anyway.