Foster mom

I saw my foster mom on video chat last Saturday and it feels like it didn’t even happen a week later.

We looked at each other without saying a word for seconds at time. Wide open eyes and smiles. Calling me with my nickname that only her and my cousin call me with. Asking me the usual questions. How are your parents? Do you have a girlfriend? I just say yes to everything, it’s easier.

She considers me her last son and I consider her my first mom. We’re joking that she’ll put all my handwritten cards in the casket when it will be time but I’m like “what time? Take your time”.

My parents and my foster family haven’t talk to each other in over 30 years. My foster dad passed away years ago. I just re-read my post when I was there. That day was so hard.

Both my family and foster family are having big (never happened before) internal fights. You know, people not talking to each other anymore, divorces etc. The thing is, EVERYONE talks to me. I’m not in bad terms with anyone. In the current context, having all kinds of white folks telling me how they feel when my black ass is in the US, mostly in Black America, in this political climate? Man, it’s beyond exhausting. Far beyond.

There are two things I will do when I finally get offered a full-time job: one, buy cigars and good wine and go up a hill for sunset.

Two, buy a plane ticket to go see my first mom and tell her how much I love and owe her.

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