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There comes a time when reality hurts

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He is so special that it hurts me to think I can do nothing more than I am …. the system is taking over. I should not have to protect him that’s what parents do, obviously I have screwed up as a father, and my son has failed, albeit in adulthood.

I am sitting in Costas in Portsmouth crying and crying I see no solution to our grandson being fostered or adopted. He will be gone from our life forever.

My son and his partner have apparently been unable to care for him and someone has contacted social services. It’s right and proper to protect him but it hurts and hurts – every time I stop thinking the pain returns and twists me over.

Last Friday my partner was collecting him for a stay over, very normal, could be one night, could be two nights, it matters not. The police either arrived or where there questioning his mum and dad. Social services had been informed by someone that they were not good parents. There may have been cause for concern that our son had fallen backwards down the stairs after our grandson was being cross with being taken out of the bath.

He is bright and very active and he keeps us busy. He is inquisitive, he is able to draw pieces of information together to check things with question, in much the same way he builds towers with tubes. He is able to reuse things he has been told. He understands and recognises sadness and knows he can help to make people feel better. What else is there for a boy of a month away from three years of age?

Drugs were searched for and found. Our sons partner kicked off big time and had to be restrained.

One of the policemen recognised my partner as being one of two (me the other) that collected our grandson when a similar event occurred. I imagined he checked and she and our grandson were allowed to leave.


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