Adrift is a book for those who have left home, sought home, or even found home and know what it’s like to live between worlds.As I stared out the window of the van, the buildings of every city loomed ominously, like giant watchdogs forcing us to keep going. The glass was cool as I leaned my head against the window and forced the tears to retreat.The world outside the window whirled by as I stared the dogs down. My memories hung loosely together like bulbs from a string of lights. I couldn’t remember when or where they happened or my exact age. I lived moment by moment, a girl in front of an ever-changing landscape of people and places.There were reasons I did not belong to each of the countries I lived: you are not German, you have a Canadian passport. You are not Canadian, you’ve only lived here for a year. Would I ever fit in? Where are you from? The question shivers down my spine like ice. I grimace to myself while responding with a smile, I’m from Canada. Sometimes I say, I’m from Germany or I live in America. Other times, I’m a missionary kid so I’m a little confused. When I am honest, I am from the sea. It began when I was twelve: I do not want to live on the sea. My family and I are driving away from my home, school and friends of the last four and a half years in Mosbach Germany. I try to remember the last time I lived on the sea, but the memories of those seven years run together like watercolors. Only a handful of them have distinct shapes, their edges jutting out of the sea of color.Until that moment my identity was defined by my friends, place, school, activities and home. Like a watercolor shape of white created by filling in the color around it, I knew myself based on the familiar people and places around me. When my family returned to the sea, the color left.Who am I?
