I am a real being brought into this
world by mistake. Along the way I managed to acquire a deep understanding of
what a home truly means. I guess it might have helped if there’d been ‘A once
upon a time fairytale’ when in reality, I didn’t have a home. The truth, there
was no belonging, not anywhere... I repeat with great sadness that we had no
place to go. So if you can... come close, let
me share a few dark secrets of a journey which once smouldered within a
framework of tortured thoughts.
In their terrible dilemma the
young couple didn’t know what to do, beat by life, and unrelenting poverty
their all consuming thoughts of seeking refuge might be a good idea... In a moment of madness they use
the last of their money to buy tickets so that they can return to his beloved Emerald
Isle. There was a real need to seek much needed solace.
Hidden from sight, their tiny
bundle is screwed up in a dirty blanket, semi-protected from icy cold wind, and
freezing spray from the raging Irish Sea. The threesome, make their way on an
uncertain journey towards his goal. Smoke billows above the young couple as
they share one cigarette after another, and when they share alcohol too, their
already confused minds decide this is the perfect thing, the only thing they
can do. The new father stuffs his newborn infant further into his oversized,
waterproof coat; he doesn’t want to lose this cargo, not when he’s made the
right decision to protect his family. With a faraway look on his drunken face, mystically
he hears panpipes of Celtic music, and remembers home... Home is where they
should be. His mother was a hard soul but she would accept them, she had to.
Though the journey is long and
arduous, it is nothing compared to the hysterical screams of abuse which follow
as he, his new wife, and tiny baby are chased from his childhood home.
Wind and rain thrash madly about
them, but equally it matches the mood of his mother.
Breathing heavy, holding her hip she chases them.
“You are not welcome; things are hard enough without another three
mouths to feed” She screams.
If in that heart-stopping moment you’d
held on to your breath, and listened hard enough, you would have heard the
distinct sound of fractured fear in her voice.
Tears mix with rain that day,
exhausted and defeated, they walk wearily back to the harbour. By the time they
arrive back in England, the impact of the whole horrendous journey on their
newborn baby had taken its toll, and in a flash of inspiration, the father
takes his sick infant to a convent. The nuns waste no time at all; the sick child
is whisked away, and admitted to the children’s hospital. Unfortunately she’s
diagnosed with a list of difficulties, the most apparent one being the fact she
is struggling to breathe... It takes eight months for the child to recover, and
in-between that time the couple still fail to find a home; they decide on
another move... But first they have to wait for the baby to be released from
her magic bubble, the only home she’s ever known. Shaking his box of matches
through the glass in her bubble is the only way the young father gets his
little girl to smile.
The second home is a single room
in a run-down Victorian house. Invasive damp, black mould, peeling wall-paper,
cold, fighting, unsavoury individuals, and their ever increasing alcohol fuelled
violence. Then her brother is born, which put’s further stress on the young
couple. Minutes turn into hours, and hours turn into days, all of which see a
definite longing in the little girl to return to her magic bubble, it had been
safe, quiet, and warm with smiley faces. Her heart feels forever sad...
The couple unhappy; they struggle,
and always find something insignificant to fight about. Another baby sister is
born and dies. The damp, cold, smelly room is depressing and sad.
The mother cries, and the dad is always missing.
This is their life, her life...
so why didn’t they see that all she wants is a warm, safe place, with a soft
clean bed, and parents who understand the basic requirements of how to love,
provide, and protect.
The story doesn’t finish there...
because despite her young years she is often found sitting in the soulless
Victorian room, which inevitably becomes someone else’s version of home. She
knows, as if from a magical sense of a long-held memory, that this isn’t so.
And then, god help them, another beautiful baby sister is born and dies.
By the time she is seven years
old, and the powers that be take a keen interest in her family’s life, there is
a change, a big shift, and along with four brothers and one sister, at long
last she is gratefully removed. Her placement is dreamlike, a wonderful
experience. The magic bubble she’d left all those years ago, was about to
reappear, and this brought the most amazing sense of belonging. She arrived;
she was home, with real people who knew how to take care of children, they knew
what was important in the life of a child.
So dear reader, the outcome for
this little girl was the overwhelming importance in finally arriving home, and once
she was there, she found love, enveloped in warmth, and a true sense of belonging,
as well as having peace, and joy in feeling safe, and secure knowing it would all
be there every single day...
Home is many things to many
people, but when a being is brought into the world, and has no home, the
importance of getting one is paramount; even if that means having to leave your
own family to acquire that very basic, fundamental need, which is normally
granted to most... then, it simply has to be.
~Jane Ewen~
