“You’ve got an Xbox?” he asked, “OK, let’s go!”

I was both a little excited and concerned by how easy the kid was about changing households. After a few more visits, the real purpose was revealed, and he just shrugged it off like it was no big deal. He really did care more about getting an Xbox than the possibility of changing homes for a lifetime.

What sort of life had he been through, that this was just the way Life was. How many promises were broken? How many people were called “Mom” and “Dad” before they sent him off with another stranger?

This was a big deal for me, but was it really no-big-deal to him?

The transition was very easy. Previous Foster and Kid came over, we went out to eat, then shopping for whatever blankets and household items would make him feel like he had a say in the matter. Then they came over, bringing up all his belongings in suitcases and boxes, to his brand-new bedroom. They placed them on the full-sized platform bed, turned on the Xbox and settled in.

There were no social workers, no formal handover, just a quiet goodbye and a new beginning.

Fortunately, it was a weekend. He wasn’t starting school for a few days, so the next day we headed down to Long Beach.

He was lovable and goofy and cuddly. I wondered if it was part of his survival skills to be so affectionate so early on… but I wasn’t going to question it… or take it for granted. I just cherished each moment as it came.

All the training never really prepares you for the “now what?” moments. You just start winging it and hope you fly.

I’m still winging it.


I’m going to England in April 2023 to show my art in a gallery. I want to show this kid the world. Please help make this dream come true. Every little bit helps.

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