It’s scary how a common task like a routine phone call, can set off a full, at times unrelated, conversation in my head, and a wave of emotions I didn’t know were there.
I decided to book my annual central heating service. I took my policy out of the drawer, went online, and started browsing the provider site looking for the booking page. That was when I noticed that I’m paying nearly twice as much as a new customer would. Outraged, I called the provider to negotiate a better deal.
It’s now two hours later, we don’t have a central heater cover anymore, and I’m praying my 12 years old boiler won’t give up and leave us in the freezing cold. It’s silly, I know, but it made me absolutely crossed that my good faith and loyalty wasn’t reciprocated. And off my brain went…
My parents’ generation had a life that was very different from the one I’m living now. They got a job at 18 years old and didn’t change it for the rest their careers. They bought a house 40 something years ago, and it’s where my mum is still living today. They never changed their bank accounts or their phone number, they replaced their car when it stopped running, and they always been on holiday in the same place. They sailed through life in shallow and secure waters, and nothing ever really changed around them. They lived a secure life.
Today things are different. We live in a world that is constantly shifting, and I often feel pushed from one corner to another like in a pinball game, without any control on situations and events.
I changed 9 houses in my life, and even more mobile phones. I had about 10 different jobs, lived in two different countries, and changed my hair colour so many times that at some point I couldn’t even recall what colour it was originally. It’s difficult to remain true to who we are when everything in our lives is in constant evolution. It’s hard to remember who we can trust, and where our safe base is.
I think of my little boy Ben. He’s not even 3 yet, and he already changed 3 families, 2 homes, his name and even his nationality. All these changes were out of his control, and out of ours as well.
I cannot shake off the sense of sadness, and disbelief. Ben is just starting to know who he is and to discover the world he’s living in. Everything must seem to be so precarious to him. It must be a huge leap of faith for our son to put his trust in us, to get attached, and to believe in us.
And now, as a foster carer, I will need to ask the children in my care to trust me, and convince them they are safe with me, although it will be clear from the start that their stay will be a temporary one. I can only hope that my good intentions, my sincere heart and my loyalty to them will be a big enough token for these children to take in exchange for their trust.
