Afraid of Breaking Walls

I find it easy and frankly more preferable, to put up a wall before people put one. It keeps me safe, secure and whole.

The idea of being pushed to one and then shoved to another is heartbreaking. Kids in Foster Care have to unfortunately deal with that. The constant rejection.

Not being “wanted”.

Being irrevocably dispensable.

I don’t like it. The inconsistencies.  My Grandmother was the only consistent one. There never was a moment that she failed her self-imposed job. Never. There is a reason why I have her on a pedestal. She earned it. Unconditional nurturing, care, kindness and selfless love, that’s who she was and has always been. I doubt there could be any other human that could be as selfless as her. Not even a fraction.

She was safety.

I never experienced this yo-yo feeling with her. Love you once, kick you out the next moment. Then love you back. And then blocked out again.

She was constant. Her devotion and love to me was constant and unconditional.

She was my rock. My Everest.

The only times I saw her iron-clad resolve crack, was whenever she saw tears in my eyes. She once told me she can’t bear the sight of my eyes welling up as they are identical to my father’s. Her late son. I thought it was no big deal. Now I understand why she became so restless every time and her resultant fierce protectiveness.

I don’t think I can hold any relation as high as I hold her. She was the best thing that happened to me. My grandmother.

Being wanted is such an elixir. It transforms even the worst bouts of depression to the most wonderfully exhilarating sense of contentment, of being loved and wanted. Just so you know, a cup of strong brewed coffee, a good book and a box of Godiva, make me feel nearly as good… Nearly.

I understand why the kids who spend their lives in Foster Care turn out so messed up. It’s so difficult to understand real love. Knowing nobody wants them hurts so bad. As a result, they become indifferent to everything. And so, they put up walls of steel, a mile thick.

I understand their plight now.

I understand their pain now.

 

 

 

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