Moving Past a Memory

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Laughter filled the air like the aroma of my mothers perfume. Interruption. A knock on the door. “I have some good news and I have some bad news”. I never did find out what the good news was. I stood behind the closed door to listen. It turned into small talk and ended with a goodbye, tears, and my baby sister and me in the back of this strange man’s car: jet black, expensive, and ready to take us away. I was only six years old.

Squeaky floors, uncomfortable chairs, papers wrestling, it was the court house. To this day I still get watery eyes as I pass by it on the freeway. At least I am not in that foster home again. Another night of the same food, and that one night I made a mistake of not being able to finish it all; all of that oatmeal and half of it ending up on my clothes because I had thrown it up. I was drenched and shaky. They stood there in their dark skin yelling at me and threw me in the shower with all I had on and told me to clean myself up. That night I cried myself to sleep and I just wanted to get away with my baby sister. I made a phone call a day later thinking that that man; with the expensive car, was on my side, that since he was a social worker he could find us a better home, that he would try to make some changes.

Time felt like it went still, it was a few weeks yet finally someone took control and took custody of us. Luckily my sister went with her father and I got to stay with my grandparents, grandparents I had never met till that day. I had never felt more displaced, more alone, more deserted. I thought for awhile that this bad dream would never end. At one point I believed my mom would never want me back. Later I found out that she had fought for me.

There has been so much left unsaid, but it is my own choice I choose to move on and get my life back together. Looking back; beyond even the foster home, the different homes I have lived in with my mom and the people I have lived without has helped me realize that I am an independent person and capable of making decisions and changes in my own life.





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CynthiaC said...
Nov. 15, 2010 at 3:44 pm
What a beautiful and moving piece of writing!  Keep working at your craft; you have real talent.
 
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