The early days

Most of us as adults would agree, that sometimes we only remember things, because photos were taken. Those still shots in time evoke feelings, scents, emotions and memories that can pull us back to the day, the hour, the minute. I have very few photos of my toddler years, but the ones that I do have in my possession, or those that I have seen in family photo albums, stick with me, and shape the deepest parts of my memory. For a silly example, My mother once showed me a set of three photos, and anyone that knows me personally, will get a good laugh at this. The first shot is of me next to the couch at age 2- in just a babydoll shirt and a diaper. The next frame show me in just a diaper, and the next I had stripped myself of even that! Seeing these photos I was brought back to my youth, of the carelessness I felt even in the darkest times of drugs on the table, and addicts connected to them. I could laugh at these photos,  because as a child, I hated clothing, and growing up, that has never changed. That set of photos brought back happy memories, and giddy feelings, so I feel that is a good example. But I think we can all agree that not all photos bring back the rush of happiness and laughter. Sometimes even a photo that looks happy, can bring back a memory of sadness and pain from the remembrance of an event surrounding the moment of that one photo. My point in telling this, is that some of my memories come from a single photograph, and therefore have less detail then a memory pulled from my own mind.

My earliest true memory of where I was placed, is of Easter, I cannot remember if I was three or four, quite possibly it was three. I had been placed with a family with a mother, father and two brothers. This family fostered other children as well as myself, but their time there was quite short, and my memories of them do not impact my story.

In this memory I see myself, standing in the corner of the L shaped benches of our dining room table, peeking out of the slanted blinds and ivy print drapes, waving two fingers at my mother, who was standing outside, pleading with my foster mother, asking to see her baby, just for a few minutes, just in the spirit of Easter. The visit was of course, not permitted, and so my mother, dashed of her hopes, left in tears.

I believe the last time I saw my mother after this was the following Easter, and this memory, is only brought around by a photo. My mother and I are sitting in the grass, I in her lap, as she snuggles me, and holds me close, maybe not knowing it would be her last time seeing me for nine years. I framed this photo in my home, to remind me, that she has always loved me, even through her worst times.

From what I recall, I was to be adopted evenutally, after gaurdianship papers were signed, and parental rights taken away from mine. I was going to complete their family.

Quite soon after this, our family of 5 became a family of 6 when a very sick little girl came to live with us. Her name was Crystal, and she was addicted to meth at birth. Her mother was just as unfit as mine, but this little girl had much more health issues then I. By the age of 6 she had undergone multiple surgeries to correct a cleft pallet, had gone to multiple physical therapists, because the doctors thought she may never walk, and had come out quite ok from being born with an addiction she did not ask for. This little girl stole their hearts, and sadly this was not a family that had enough love to share. After Crystal came to live with us, they changed her name to Aubrey, and very quickly adopted her. There was a grand party to celebrate, and once the adoption was finalized, things turned around for me. The foster kids stopped being placed, they had found what they were looking for. I of course was already a gaurdian child, which is more permanent then foster, so I stayed. But looking back, I feel that once she became part of their family, and finalized Pam's (gaurdian mother) dream of having a little girl, I became obsolete. A mere nuisance in their home.

I will give you the chance here now to stay or go.