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Massachusetts Foster Parent
They tore around the large room. Blocks were immediately turned into missiles, beverages on tables grabbed, anything within reach grabbed. Their eyes darted around, yet they avoided eye contact at all costs. We were unknown, this place was unknown.
“Is it always like this?” I asked, breathless after chasing down my work phone which had nearly gone airborne.
“Since they arrived, yes…It’s like they’ve never been in a house before,” Foster Mom said, catching a
We call an Uber or a Lyft for a ride to the airport. We call AAA if we get a flat tire. We call DoorDash if we are sick and don’t have the energy to cook a meal for our family. We nod to our neighbors but don’t know their names or invite them in for coffee. We connect with family and friends via social media, but rarely reach out in person. The days are
The courthouse was bustling with activity. A digital sign welcomed families. On the third floor, balloons bobbed, Storm Troopers doled out high fives and hugs, and photographers snapped away, capturing moments of joy. Everyone was dressed in their finest, from little Mary Jane shoes on feet who could not yet walk to three piece suits and bow ties. There was excitement, confusion, commotion, anxiety, and oh so much love. Families waited for their turn to
His legs are visibly shaking. There is a voice, off to the side, encouraging him, giving him pointers, supporting him. Below is a woman, arms open, ready to catch him. The child lurches to his knees, clinging to the diving board. Eventually, he slowly lowers himself into the pool.
In the next frame, he is taller, leaner. His goggles are positioned on his face just so. He strides with confidence to the end of the