Dear Seraphina,
Are you still shooting the movie? How’s Steven Spielberg? I bet he’s real nice. I mean, I know he is obviously super smart and talented, so I just assume that people who are super smart and talented are also nice, but I guess maybe that isn’t always the case.
Anyway, I was paging through People magazine during my break and saw the news that you recently connected with your biological mom. That’s really great. I am so happy for you. I remember reading in that US Weekly article a few months ago that you had been trying to track her down. I never got a chance to see my mom again, you know, after I got taken away. Turns out she overdosed when I was like, thirteen or fourteen, and nobody had the heart to tell me. Though sometimes I think I had just been through so many different homes that nobody really knew who my mom was anymore.
It is kinda weird not knowing who your parents are, isn’t it? You grow up around these kids who have parents, who know where they come from, or at the very least still have one parent raising them, but it’s their own flesh and blood, a connection to the past. People like us, who grow up not having that connection? We feel lost. Or at least I did. I didn’t really fit anywhere. I was always just a guest, staying somewhere temporarily. And I don’t know if that’s the same for other kids coming up through the system, but even now, despite having my own trailer, a place that has all my stuff (all my “earthly belongings,” as the reverend at the church one of my foster families took me to might say), I still don’t really think of it as home. It’s just a place where I’m staying, like the foster homes growing up, and one day I’ll get the word that I need to go someplace else. Maybe that’s why I don’t have many possessions. Because that way it’ll be easier and faster to pack when that day comes.
Well, anyway, I’m happy for you and your mom. Congratulations.