Home Is Where the Heart Is
Home is Where the Heart is
Growing up in foster care kids never grow to understand the phrase, “Home is where the heart is.” This phrase isn’t making reference to a house or a tangible item in your life. An emotional connection you have with someone or something is what I believe home represents. The feeling of being secure, knowing you’ll be taken care of no mater what you say or do, and always feeling like your loved and wanted. Hundreds of kids have grown accustomed to the feeling of hopelessness and loneliness. Kids have grown accustomed to feeling like they don’t belong anywhere; I was once one of those kids.
I remember the bone-chilling feeling of seeing the black almost hearse-like car coming to take me away from the only place I was familiar with. I remember the feeling of confusion, the feeling of sorrow, and the feeling of anger. I remember getting into the car and smelling the old, damp, mildewed scent of previous the rider’s tears. The tears I had grown so accustomed to. I remembered how I wished to scream and squeal, like the brakes, when the car stopped at my new quarters. I remember telling myself, “Don’t get comfortable Josh, because you won’t be here long, right? I’ll be home soon. Right?” I remember the feeling of being abandoned, the feeling of being unwanted, feeling just plain alone. Throughout my years as a foster child and adolescent, I moved in and out of countless houses, met and said goodbye to countless families, friends, and teachers.
I remember the Bensons; they took me in when I was seven. I had already been moved around eight times. The first thing they said to me was, “It’ll be okay, you don’t have to worry anymore, you’ll be here for a long time.” The weight of uncertainty lifting off your shoulders is a good feeling; in fact, it could be the best. Being able to take off your shoes, plunge down on the couch, and say hello to someone who says hello back. Having the ability to look someone in the eyes and, not only feel, but
Growing up in foster care kids never grow to understand the phrase, “Home is where the heart is.” This phrase isn’t making reference to a house or a tangible item in your life. An emotional connection you have with someone or something is what I believe home represents. The feeling of being secure, knowing you’ll be taken care of no mater what you say or do, and always feeling like your loved and wanted. Hundreds of kids have grown accustomed to the feeling of hopelessness and loneliness. Kids have grown accustomed to feeling like they don’t belong anywhere; I was once one of those kids.
I remember the bone-chilling feeling of seeing the black almost hearse-like car coming to take me away from the only place I was familiar with. I remember the feeling of confusion, the feeling of sorrow, and the feeling of anger. I remember getting into the car and smelling the old, damp, mildewed scent of previous the rider’s tears. The tears I had grown so accustomed to. I remembered how I wished to scream and squeal, like the brakes, when the car stopped at my new quarters. I remember telling myself, “Don’t get comfortable Josh, because you won’t be here long, right? I’ll be home soon. Right?” I remember the feeling of being abandoned, the feeling of being unwanted, feeling just plain alone. Throughout my years as a foster child and adolescent, I moved in and out of countless houses, met and said goodbye to countless families, friends, and teachers.
I remember the Bensons; they took me in when I was seven. I had already been moved around eight times. The first thing they said to me was, “It’ll be okay, you don’t have to worry anymore, you’ll be here for a long time.” The weight of uncertainty lifting off your shoulders is a good feeling; in fact, it could be the best. Being able to take off your shoes, plunge down on the couch, and say hello to someone who says hello back. Having the ability to look someone in the eyes and, not only feel, but