Foster Child

How is a person supposed to feel when he walks into a room full of people that are his family and doesn’t know most of them? When he sees the face of the mother he hasn’t spoken with in more than twenty years? The woman he has been searching for really since she left him at that orphanage. I helped to initiate this gathering at my sister’s home, and was willing to do whatever it took to make it a positive, fulfilling experience for myself. It had taken a long time, many bad, and some good decisions, a lot of pain, sadness and suffering, more than an ounce of courage, strength and determination, and the unending love and support of an amazing woman to get to this moment in my life. My mother sat in a chair against a wall, a look that I can only describe as “reserved” on her face. No big, welcoming smile. No “So happy to see you,” greeting. She seemed to be more serene - and sad. Thinking back, I realize she was probably more in a state of shock than anything else. Each of her children approached her, one by one. Some had been in the same situation I had been in, others weren’t even aware of our existence. My mother’s body language said it all. It had to have been a difficult moment for her, emotionally. She hugged each of us, individually, and told each of us, individually, that she loved us. Verbally expressing her love for her children was apparently something my mother had taken to doing in her later years, and I heard the words often after that first occasion. I never once took them for granted. Hearing the words “I love you” from your mother probably ranks high on the list of things people, especially kids, take for granted. And then, one day they wish they could hear that voice and those words just one more time. I didn’t have quite so normal a childhood; those words weren’t often spoken to me – and certainly not by the mother I had not seen. That first time, after more than twenty years without contact – verbal or visual – is a moment that will forever be seared in the emotional memories of my heart. I choke up thinking back on that moment to this day. I did make a conscious effort to work on building a relationship with her after that. I had longed for her, prayed for her to come back, during most of my childhood, and I thought that after waiting for this most of my life, there would be an instant and natural connection. Sadly, but I guess, naturally, that was not the case. I had to work to love her, and work to forgive her. The conflict of emotions went on in me for more than ten years, but I was excited that I had found her. I did not regret it, and though it wasn’t an easy process, nothing worthwhile ever is.