Surviving Soberly

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August 14, 2014 Dear McKenna: It's something – you're going to be 14 tomorrow and it is time once again for your annual birthday letter. I just found out you've outgrown Chuck E. Cheese and now prefer the mall though you are NOT a shopper. Neither one of us got that shopper gene. I loved getting your recent pictures from Jamaica. In some of your pictures you look just like my sister Cindy when she was your age. It's uncanny. As usual, I've been pondering what to say in your annual letter. Tomorrow I'll make the annual trip to the park to honor your birthday. This year's been a blessed one as it always is when I get to see you. Being with you is like being free, all my troubles just seem to melt away. It's great to see the world through your eyes – dancing, innocent, stars, shining, possibilities endless, unhurt, hopeful. For my 14 th  birthday I got a skating party which was a blast. It was a total surprise. I got home fr

When they placed you in my arms my world changed from dark to light.   never knew a mothers love until I looked into your eyes Your smile and laugh heal me now and I remember your every detail. Although many criticize and misunderstand I know you’re in the best of hands. I did what I did because I wanted you to know laughter and peace, and never know the pain of ~ the coldness of a hungry night. loved you enough to give you life but now I know that was all I could give. You have a mother who’s so good to you, who loves you enough and can give you more. I wanted so much to give you that that I couldn’t take anything less. For you there should be ribbons and bows and play and love and hugs galore. You came from me but now are hers and always will be part of them. Although my thoughts are so much with you I wanted to give you you so much more than me. I hope one day you II understand it all and smile at how lucky you are. There is a God who loves you so and every day I th

Aug. 6, 2003 Dear McKenna: Yes, it's that time of year again. Time for your annual birthday letter. You'll probably read back on one of these one day and think: "She's corny," but anyway. I've been reflected the past few days as to what to say in this letter, your third one. I can't believe it's been three years. I can still remember what it felt like to have you in my belly and how active you were. I know your mom has big things planned for your third birthday on the 15th and I hope you eat some cake and that your appetite is better. I want so much for you, the things I wish for, dream about, planned on, yet have always heard that it's bad to live you life vicariously through your children and have see the damage that can do. Luckily for you and I you won't have to bear those burdens. Instead I can just imagine with excitement what  you'll be like, think about the personality that has already formed you, one that will conquer

Chances Running along in our daily lives Taking for granted the faces we've known the lives we've touched the places they've been Conversations from years ago. Laughter, tears, jokes aside. Solemn oath to see together. Trying to make sense of it all. And yet hopeful for the future. A grandparent to come. I picture your smile far away from me and yet as close as my soul draws breath Today, no matter the loss or time the beauty in you your hand touches mine across the miles even though in spirit I feel your hope it lives in me and carries me through another a a night of hope of calm surprise a tender sleep Good night little one. Terri Rimmer ©

I ran into Samantha who was with us at Gladney the other night at Walmart. She's married with two daughters and said that the daughter she placed for adoption - the APs just cut her off in 2002 and stopped sending letters and pics. She said she found them on Facebook and messaged them but they never replied. We were both saying how we couldn't believe it had been ten years. Cari's daughter just turned 10 and Jennifer Neidenbach's, too, will this month. My daughter will be 10 tomorrow.   Terri Rimmer ©   

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You know how New Year's Eve is always tough for me because of my Dad's death? Well, tonight I went to the chapel at Baylor All Saint's downtown for the first time.  The chapel is really tiny. I had never been in it. I walked in and saw writings from Psalsms on the walls and started getting emotional. I went up to the little alter and knelt and prayed and started crying. I also picked up a lot of good literature from there. I dropped off the stuff at the ICU waiting room there at the same hospital like I did last year in Dad's memory - books, magazines; etc. for people to read.  Then on the way home I was behind a bus that had a huge ad on the back that read "What if there really IS a God?" Weird, huh?   Terri Rimmer ©

Aug. 6, 2009 Dear McKenna: Nine years have crept by and at the same time some would say it all has flown so fast like a speeding train from the moment I wrote your first birthday letter till now. And here we are as you approach your ninth birthday on Aug. 15 and yet I still can recall your ruffled pink self in my arms wearing that dress that made one of the Gladney caseworkers say, “Oh my Gawd!” Recently I got the gift of a lifetime when your adoptive mom invited me to your house for the first time at the spur of the moment when the place we were going to meet had a roof leak. Being invited to your home was something I'd dreamed about, hoped for, and fantasized about ever since the day you were born and I said goodbye to you in the park, but it was something I never thought would happen. My friends told me so, too. To be in your home where you live with your family and to see how you live and how you are was a gift that I cannot adequately put into words as to

Aug. 13, 2010 Dear McKenna: So in two days you will be the big “1-0”, double digits birthday, your tenth. Anyway, I was very excited when I was your age to be turning ten years old. It’s a big deal. I remember on my tenth birthday I had a slumber party and one of the gifts I got was something called a Lemon Twist. It was this big fake lemon attached to a cord-like thing with a loop and you put it around your ankle and swung it around by your ankle, jumping in and out of it. Now that I think about it, sounds kinda weird but at the time it was very fun and popular. I hear you’re having a skating party which I know will be a blast for you. I remember a long time ago your dad Larry said to Vicki, “You should see your daughter on skates,” meaning you were good. I started skating when I was six or so and quickly loved it like you do. We used to go skating all the time at Crescent Skating Rink. The party will be a nice memory you can keep for a long time like I did when I

I dreamed last night that I was talking to Ripley in heaven, apologizing for not being a better owner. A friend of mine in Weatherford offered to bury Ripley on her property after I'd already had him cremated but I wouldn't have done that anyway because I wanted his ashes with me and I never go to Weatherford so it's not like I could go visit him regularly.   I can't pick up Ripley's ashes till next week. My cat has been very affectionate with me and tonight she slept on Ripley's bed. She would do that sometimes in recent months but he would always run her off of it and she would hiss at him.    Every time I sit at my computer I keep thinking I hear his tags. I woke up at 3 a.m. thinking about how it sounded when he took his last breaths. In between pet sitting jobs, driving to each job, I sometimes cry thinking about our various adventures together. Then, there's all these people out walking their young dogs. Every time I come home

A month ago Ripley won a personalized designer tag. You could pick out the symbol you wanted and I had picked out a cross (before his death). On the form you had to write why you were choosing the symbol you were choosing and I had written because he had been through so much. When I got his ashes I put that tag in the box along with some other things.   ©

Just saw that Old Rip's, this Tex Mex restaurant that opened three years ago, just closed. I was surprised because it was really popular with the TCU students. When it opened I took a picture of the sign outside because Rip was one of Ripley's main nicknames and I thought it was apropo. Kinda sad, now they're both gone.

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Once I found out I was pregnant for the first time on January 2, 2000, I began keeping a pregnancy journal, which soon became an adoption journal, which I kept for over a year. The journal was to be a tribute to my unborn daughter and later to birth moms as well. It details from beginning to end what it's like to be a birth mom involved in a semi-open adoption and depicts the various attitudes prevalent today regarding adoption in our society. My goal with the journal, which I've now turned into a novel, is to educate the general public about adoption and for the book to serve as a supportive tool for prospective birth moms and those who have already placed their child for adoption. Since the adoption process has evolved so much from the 1920s when "orphan trains" were the norm to the 1960s when all adoptions were closed and birth moms weren't allowed to see or hold their newborn, I wanted to show first-hand what adoption is like today. Since there continue

McKenna's Annual Birthday Letter Tears come to my eyes for some reason this time, writing your annual letter for your birthday, your 12 th now. You've done so much with your little life so far – mastered an Adele song, swam and danced with the dolphins, made the newspaper some more, published your second book (which left me in awe of your growing creativity). Your young mind amazes me as does your gentle, yet spunky spirit. I'm so glad you got to have the experience of swimming with the dolphins like I did because they are so spiritual in nature, or at least I found them to be – as all animals are. God has created in you such a spark, a spontaneity, generosity, breath of life that all of us could aspire to be. You bring good thoughts of my happy times of childhood – the fearlessness, wonderment, curiosity, and sheer joy in just being a child and exploring all that is out there and all that lies before me – all that I can be. And you can be anything! W

Aug. 14, 2013 Dear McKenna: So now you're going to be a teenager tomorrow. Lots of things have happened this year for you: You made symphonic band, finished babysitting class, progressed with your piano playing, and have accomplished so much academically and personally. I brag about you all the time. I've been thinking about what I want to say in this letter since you're going to be a teenager now while also thinking about what it was like when I was 13. Things have changed a lot since 1979 when I was your age. You've probably never heard of a Walkman. That's how we listened to music on the radio or tapes then if we weren't near a stereo at home. People would jog or walk with The Walkman. I was so excited when I got one for Christmas. All the kids wanted one like you and your friends wanted Ipads. We had all kinds of weird toys from pet rocks, to fake TV dinners, spirographs, fake airports, fire stations, puppets you co

Aug. 12, 2007 Dear McKenna: It’s time once again for your annual birthday letter. In three days, on the 15 th you’ll be seven. Seven years old! I can’t believe it and neither can anyone else. I’m so glad I got to see you this week. It always does my heart so good to see you. You took me by the hand and wanted me to play games with you for the first time! That was so cool! I had hoped for so long that day would come and I was so full of gratitude for it. And you were so good at one of those video games we played. It was so cool to watch you navigate your way around with that joystick. You’re still so tiny, you are adorable, mischevious, so very smart, and seem like a wise old soul at times. You say the cutest things. Like when you said (like a middle-aged woman) the other day when asked if you were going to do cheerleading again – “No, it just wears me out!” You remind me so much of my niece Jessica when she was little. I cannot

Aug. 3, 2008 Dear McKenna: Every year when I write your birthday letter I always try to come up with new, fresh things that will mean something to you. Of course your birthday isn’t till the 15 th but one day you will know this about me – I like to get a jump on things. Right now, though you’re only turning eight so you don’t know such adult things  . At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I can’t believe you are going to be eight. I marvel that it is has been eight years that I have been given the gift of you and seeing you grow, experience life, and take delight in your surroundings like you do. From playing soccer to being a diehard Hannah Montana fan, you light up a room to me and every time I see you it’s like opening a present on Christmas Day. In the Bible it says that God delights in us and that is how I feel about you. I want the best for you. Every time I see you, you nurture the spirit in me. You have already become such a special p

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Unhealthy Costs 0 Posted May 26, 2010 by John Q. Public in  News To the editor:  Fort Worth Weekly ’s recent cover story, “ The Cost of Staying Alive ” (May 5, 2010),  showed the true picture of the healthcare reform and really hit home for me. My asthma inhaler is $84, even with  Medicare , so I have to get samples from the doctor, but there are limits to that too. Now I’ve read that a lot of doctors like mine are jumping ship and will no longer accept Medicare due to the health reform bill. Then there is my 9-year-old daughter, whom I had to place for adoption because I couldn’t take care of her. She’s had a feeding tube since she was two years old, due to food aversion, but the insurance company won’t cover her dental expenses though they are directly related to her medical condition. Luckily her adoptive parents are both nurses, but even they struggle sometimes with the costs related to her care. Thank you for letting others see through a child’s and parent’

Today, March 19 I found out my oldest sister Joy has Stage 1 breast cancer. I was going to wait to write about this. It seems that I'm being insensitive (maybe I am) by going ahead and writing about Joy's diagnosis. Those last two words in that sentence I just wrote look like a foreign language to me. Joy's Diagnosis. It doesn't seem real. I've always been one to have delayed reactions to things. When my parents told me they were getting divorced as a child I didn't cry right away, but retreated to my room. I've been that way ever since. On the surface I guess it would appear that I am cold but that is hardly the truth at all. I just have always used writing to deal with tragedies and problems in my life. Joy, 52, didn't get her mammogram done last year because she was busy although she had gotten it the year before. Five years ago her husband of 25 years died in a car accident. She still has her grown daughters (my nieces) and her four

I left for Florida to see my sister Cindy for a week on March 29 and will be back on the 5th. It's a tradition that I go see her around my birthday every year which is March 31. As some of you know, one of my other sisters, Joy just found out she has breast cancer, Stage 1 and is getting an MRI tomorrow. She lives in Illinois. Yesterday on the plane I was talking to a woman and was telling her about Joy when the woman revealed she had cancer, too. She has been living with lymphoma for two years with no symptoms. She had just felt some swollen lymph nodes on her neck so she went to the doctor. Turns out she lives in Hurst, about 30 minutes from me so I gave her my card and told her to keep in touch. I asked her if it was tough to travel a lot like she does when she's sick. "I'm not sick," she said. "I haven't had any problems." She said her doctor was "the best" and was so great to her. "He has a policy of when he delivers

As my birth daughter's ninth birthday approaches this month I am filled with such gratitude and wonder regarding my most painful yet smartest decision I ever made. Like a woman recently profiled in USA Today recently, I, too placed my daughter for adoption when I was in my 30s at the age of 34 though I had no other kids and still don't. In this day and age it still amazes me the horrible view so many people have about adoption. Yes, of course, there are "bad" adoptions but I know my daughter has a great life because I get visits with her and I see it in her eyes, laughter, and personality. When I was pregnant and after it was unbelievable the amount of vicious comments I got from other women who called themselves my friends as well as co-workers and even the general public. These people clearly still have a backwoods mentality when it comes to adoption - no awareness whatsoever of what the birth mom goes through or why she made the decision she did - a heart-wrenc

So I rent this computer the summer of 1999 though I have no money for toilet paper. Why? Because from the time I was introduced to the Internet in 1998 I was hooked. Then, came the naiveté that comes when first embarking on online dating, thinking that every person is okay and wanting to believe that "he is the one." First there was Charlie from Boston who initially instant messages my best friend as I'm using her computer with a simple message of "Hey, there. So, you're an artist?" My best friend who happened to be gay is not amused and has no idea how this guy got her email address. She doesn't bother writing him back. But I do. And there it begins. He tells me that the explanation for his email address made up of his and another woman's name is that he has a roommate who shares his computer. It was only after I met him while he was in town at a hotel downtown and after we had sex that he tells me over a fancy dinner that that woman