There’s this little peanut who lives in my home, and I love her. She has a mom and a dad and a whole other scattered family, but because of stuff, she lives with me. She calls me Gubba.

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One day, maybe soon, they will take her away. She’ll go back to the mom, or maybe the dad – whomever gets his or her you-know-what together sooner.

Someone will come in a van and load up her barbies and her bike and her dress-up clothes. That someone will take her out of my arms and buckle her into a car seat and they will drive away… out of my yard and out of my life and I’ll wonder forever how she is doing and if she is happy and if her life is good.

Going in, I knew all this. The minute I got the phone call and said yes, I’ll take her, I knew there would most likely be a goodbye at the end of it. The first time I kissed her, I knew there would probably be a last kiss and a final hug and an end.

This is how it works in the system, usually. There are beginnings and there are endings, and the time between is all I’m given, and who knows how long it will be.

This baby girl, though? She snuck right into my heart from day one, and oh my.

Be careful, warned someone who loves me and who has held my broken heart in past days.

Be careful.

But how can you be careful with love? That’s what I said and that’s how I live and I don’t know any other way to do it. Even though I know there might be a mountain of hurt to climb, because one day, maybe soon, they will take her away.

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