Loss and Grief

I moonlight on some Thursdays. My boss knows about it, so I'm OK there. I spend those Thursdays with people who think they want to be foster parents, teaching them about what their job will entail and what to expect. It's really a good introductory course to foster care. It's very general and covers a lot of ground...well, skims a lot of ground. Of course, you actually learn the most about foster care while doing foster care, as with most anything.

So there's one session in the course during which we talk about loss and grief. We talk about all the different kinds of loss people endure during the course of their lives - expected losses, unexpected losses - that sort of thing. We also discuss grief and reactions to loss. This, of course, leads into the kinds of loss and grief they will be seeing and experiencing as a foster or adoptive parent.

Now, I am not the only foster parent who helps teach this course. There are about 5 of us, and we switch it around each round as to who teaches which session. But I've somehow had the grief and loss session for the last two rounds. (And will have it again in the coming round.) The day after teaching that session the first of those two rounds, I lost my last pair of jeans to an untimely tear in the knee. I shared this loss with my class, it was a nice comic relief. So two weeks ago I taught that same session. The next day, my family and I were leaving the house, and my dog got out the front door and jetted into the street just as a truck came around the corner. Three of my children, one of their friends, my mom and I watched and screamed as we watched Louie Lobo get hit in front of our house. Luckily, he was relatively unharmed. He scraped his front left wrist but is otherwise OK. But I don't think the rest of us are. My three year old talks about it constantly, and the two older girls are much more careful when they open the front door now. I had a lot of trouble functioning the rest of the day, but am doing better now. I do notice that Louie is much more wary of the front door.

But I attribute it to the class. Now I'm afraid to teach that session again. I have superstitious tendencies (like the 49ers have had nothing but horrible seasons since I lost my lucky Niners t-shirt the day after Steve Young played his last game on that fateful day in Arizona with me sitting in the stands. If only I could find that t-shirt!) If I teach that session again, what will I lose this time?