Surviving Soberly

Jan. 16, 2015 Dear Bryant: I know I've never written you a letter before. But you turned 18 today and I wanted to say a few words. When I met you in June 2000 with your parents you were two years old in a car seat sucking on a bottle and I remember thinking, "That's the calmest toddler I ever met." We ate at a Mexican restaurant your parents liked and you quietly banged some spoons on the table while your mom told me how your biological dad was a musician. Both your parents were engaged with you at the dinner table and that made me feel good for you and for you sister's future. When I saw you again you were at Placement Day where McKenna would go home with you and your family. Your family minister was showing you how to feed the ducks to distract you from the formalities of the ceremony. You really wanted to feed those ducks! I watched you grow in rare visits, but many photos, videos, and stories from your mom. I remember one time

20 years ago I moved to Fort Worth with my husband at the time for his job. Two months later we separated on my 30th birthday which was Easter Sunday and later divorced.At the time we separated and he went to California, he said, "I can't believe you're staying here. You don't even know anybody!" But I had a job and when you've been in foster homes and all kinds of places you learn to adapt. So I did.  I often have wondered what would've happened if I left. But if I left, the re would've been no McKenna, no Ripley, no Marbles, no volunteer award, none of the many jobs where I learned so much, none of the canine and feline pet sitting clients that I loved and the pet sitting clients who came to trust me, none of the friendships I treasure, the research studies. I took the road less traveled, as they say, and I am better for it. I can't believe it's been 20 years. I consider Fort Worth my home and not the town I grew up in. Thank you to those wh