“I was placed in a foster home when I was 9 years old, my 3 older siblings were placed in other homes as well,” said Lynette; an African-American woman in her early 50s. It was May 2023 and we were at a conference at Suffolk County DSS; Department of Social Services, sharing our reasons for being there. The question was what had inspired each one of us to want to become foster parents. Lynette; was sharing her story.

“My parents divorced when I was 7 and although my father paid child support, which meant my mother didn’t have to work, she had no capacity to raise 4 children.” Lynette continued. ”My mother had a lot of psychological issues – she had no friends, she was a recluse, she had trouble keeping the house in order, she mostly spent her days sleeping. Finally someone made a complaint and the state stepped in. My siblings were all in their teens, we were placed separately. I was placed with Mrs. Judith. Mrs. Judith was to my mother – as a cat is to….a banana!”

We all laughed. While listening to Lynette, I was also thinking of how I was going to answer this question myself. It’s amazing how our brains multi-task! The short answer to the question for me – and for Mark – was that although we didn’t have biological kids, our experience hosting our two international exchange students – someone else’s children – had been so rewarding – both had become our daughters for life – that when one of the girl’s coordinators told us about the world of fostering, it had felt like a natural next step. But that WAS the short answer. Answers to the bigger questions of our lives are seldom that simple.

When Mark and I first met, we were both grieving. I was grieving the loss of my beloved sister – my person, my family, my co-dreamer and my fellow-walker. Mark was grieving the end of an 18 year old marriage to someone who was not able to be a wife due to her own mental challenges. Neither of us had any kids. We talked about having biological children. But that conversation almost always ended in tears. Memories of my sister & me dreaming about raising our kids together remained sharply hurtful.

But we were sure – Mark & I – that we wanted to adopt. We looked into adoption, even international adoption – from India – and all of it felt like a tedious, bureaucratic affair that took years out of one’s life. And our lives & work spread across Los Angeles, New York City and Long Island were already full to the brim. How could two immigrants – with demanding careers and without a family or village of their own – adopt & raise kids in a country that offers little to no meaningful form of governmental support to facilitate child-rearing. The process looked daunting, especially to our weary hearts, we still had a lot of grieving to do.

Time passed. Mark and I made a life together and helped heal each other’s heart.

Then Covid happened – forcing us and allowing us to fully move our lives to Bay Shore, to finally be in one place. In 2022, while recovering from a major illness and seeking companionship & community, I saw a post on Nextdoor asking for families to host international students. Thank you Barb for holding our hand and helping us fill-out the paperwork to be approved in time for the school year. We went from having no children to having two teenage daughters from two different countries in a matter of weeks. When it rains, it pours!

It was a match made in heaven, we adored the girls and they adored us right back. We came to learn they also needed healing from their own personal traumas, and we learnt that we were able to help them through some very challenging issues. So when one of the girls’ coordinators told us of her prior experience working in the foster system & said “there are so many kids in the foster system who would love to have you as their family”, we knew that life was talking to us.

But a doubt nagged – kids in the foster system have often been severely traumatized, what if they are beyond our help? What if we they don’t let us in? What if..?

“Mrs. Judith was a gregarious lady.” Lynette continued “Her door was always open to her friends. She worked in the community, listened to people’s troubles, hosted many get-togethers and had a big laugh – I can still hear it.” Lynette paused as if she could really hear the laughter. “Being in her house taught me how it feels to be truly alive and what it means to live. We were finally sent back to our mother, even though she was never fully functional and always blamed the state for taking her kids away. I was not allowed to speak about Mrs. Judith even after Mrs. Judith passed away. When I got on my own feet, I told my mother I wanted to foster kids too but my mom told me that would make her feel like a failure. So I never did.” Lynette started tearing up, “My mother passed away last year. And although I am sad at losing her, I am finally free to foster children – so I can say to Mrs. Judith – you taught me how to live – and I am ready to pay if forward. “

We were all in tears. When my turn came, I gave the short answer. We spent a whole year training and preparing the house. We finally got certified last week.

When I feel nervous about what this new chapter might entail, I remember Lynette and her Mrs. Judith. And I know this. When Mark and I met, our hearts were singing their own sad melodies. But somehow through life’s grace our melodies harmonized. And we were able to write a new song together. Something similar happened with our exchange student-daughters. Soon we will have foster-kids, their own broken hearts singing their own melodies. But with life’s permission – and with the support of our new village – I am hopeful that our melodies will harmonize too.

And there will be a new song.

Swati Srivastava is an immigrant and a multi award-winning writer, director, and voiceover artist. A filmmaker & storyteller, Swati turns ideas into experience. She is also an environmentalist and an immigrant to the United States. She can be reached via Linkedin and swati@TiredAndBeatup.com