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Left to right, Lauren (2), a cousin, Jason (5), a cousin |
Jason was older than Lauren and I. When we were taken from our mother he was 5 or 6, so he had already been through that once and remembered it, I am sure, much the way I remember him being taken from us. My sister was not even 3 and I was only 7 months old when we were all three put in foster care together. By all accounts and recognition, Jason was our protector. He was the quintessential big brother. I don't think Lauren and I knew how much that day affected us until later in life when my sister began to have trouble adjusting and when I, after having my own daughter I began to question "what the heck happened" and "how could a mother leave her children".
That day is forever grained in my memory. It is one of my earliest childhood memories. I didn't see my brother again much after that. I remember a few meetings here and there and I remember him giving me an E.T. figurine once. But mostly I just remember my adopted parents keeping us from him. I didn't know why they did that when I was a kid, and as an adult it just made me terribly mad. Many years would go by before I saw Jason again.
The story of these foster kids has many different layers, adversities, tragedies, losses and triumphs. The story of my life is one of searching and revealing. It is a story of forever trying to replace Jason in my life. Many relationships and friendships have come and gone and through it all I have realized that my entire life and the outcome of my future relationships were changed on that day. My trust for people, for authority figures, for loved ones, for people who said they loved me; was gone. It would be years before I would learn to trust again.