J.A.M. - 24. Chapter 23

Diary of a Lost Kid

By Wesley Lewis

Chapter 23

Entry 68

So when I write in this diary there are lots of things I write about. But there’s stuff I don’t write about too. When I said Dr. Hawk was full of shit I was lying. I do have abandonment issues. And when I finally admitted it to myself and to him he told me the best thing to do would be to write about it. So this one will be about it. I know I’ve written some about my parents and foster homes, but Doc thinks it will help if I write more about it so here’s hoping it does.

Entry 69

I guess I should start off with my parents, or my biological ones at least. Well one biological parent. Still cant get over the fact that my former math teacher’s husband was married to mom. So I guess let’s start with her. Her name was Margaret Evans, but everyone called her Margie, or sometimes large marge because she was on the heavier side. She didn’t mind that nickname she said it just meant she had a large personality. I didn’t care she was on the larger side, she always told me “I’m not fat there’s just more of me to love”. Then she’d smile and make everything alright. I think the best thing I loved about her was when we would garden together. Every year we would plant new rose bushes. Our favorites were Kennedy Roses.

My dad was named John. To me he was one of the best fathers anyone to ask for. He always made sure we had the best. The thing I loved most as when e took fishing trips together. We’d spend the whole day on the riverbanks hoping to catch a fish good enough to keep. Most of the time though we would end up catching nothing at all. But we didn’t care it was just the time we spent together I loved most.

We had the perfect family, until three months after my twelfth birthday. I was at Auntie Johs house with Phillip as mom and dad went to a lunch meeting with some friends. There was a knock at the door and to cops came to tell us that my parents had been in an accident. Apparently when they were crossing an intersection when a semi came through and hit them. The cops said their deaths were immediate and they didn’t feel anything at all. There was a small funeral, and I was shortly shipped off to the first foster home.

Entry 70

The first foster home they sent me to was the Gaunt’s. They had three kids already I was there for about three weeks. Three miserable weeks. I had just lost parents and they shove me in a house with strangers who I’ve never met in my entire and expected me to be happy. What the fuck was wrong with them. I’m supposed to be grateful they yanked me from the only fucking home I’ve ever know and set me in the middle of a damn trailer park??? Don’t get me wrong, Ms. Steuben tried to comfort me. I know you're thinking if Phillip was fostered and adopted why couldn’t his parents take me. Turn out his father being a social worker himself (he became one after adopting Phillip), and knowing me personally was a conflict of interest. It sucked completely. The main problem with that home was they neglected us. They used the money that was supposed to be for us on drugs and alcohol. So for two months I lived in that hell hole.

The next foster home wasn’t so bad, they were kind honest people. Just a little crowded. I was there for a little over three months until the foster parents decided they couldn’t deal with the extra mouth to feed. They were apologetic about it, but I understood why they did it.

The third foster family was the Wilkes. They had one son, Donnie, a foul-mouthed little asshole with bad hair and was slightly overweight. His parents gave him everything he ever wanted so he was a spoiled brat. I was with them for eight months. Were they happy, no they weren’t, but they were better than being ignored and being shipped off. Yes Donnie was a bully, but I had a home. I celebrated my thirteenth birthday while there. The only thing I got was a book from Phillip, but that was enough. The problems started when I invited Phillip over to play. Donnie would start his usual bullying, but this time directed it towards my best friend. After about a week of him calling Phillip a fairy or little queer, I just punched the little dick in the mouth. That led to his parents calling Ms. Steuben to get me because they didn’t want a hooligan living with them.

Of course the next foster home was the best, the Fords. They reminded me so much of mama and daddy. Mrs. Ford loved flowers; her favorite were tulips. And Mr. Ford loved fishing. Every weekend he would take me out on his boat, and we would have fun. It was almost like having my parents back. They helped me with my homework, they didn’t mind Phillip coming over, heck they doted on him almost as much as they did me. I honestly couldn’t have asked for better foster parents. But then Mr. Ford had his stroke. Mrs. ford tried but after a week we realized she just couldn’t care for me and her husband by herself. The look of pain on her face as Ms. Steuben ushered me into the car told me she felt the same as I did. I loved these people almost as much as my parents. And when I realized it, it was too late, I was sent to another home. I don’t think Mrs. Ford knows this but when she called Ms. Steuben, it was the best thing that ever happened to me after my parent’s deaths.

The next home they sent me to, well everyone knows about that. I’ve told you all about it. I found my forever family. I found out that I had another dad. Am I mad that mama kept it a secret? No I think she was doing what was best for everyone. I will admit I thought harshly about her when I first found out. But I don’t anymore. I believe everything happens for a reason. They gave me twelve great years. I’m hoping for many more from Dad and Pop.