As you read MY story
PLEASE think about the other children that are in similar situations.
When
I start to remember I think about when I lived with only my birth mom
and my little brother, Sam. I didn't know I had a dad, until I was taken
away from my mom at 5 years old. My dad died when I was 7.
As
young as I was - I didn't understand what was going on or what I was
going through. I remember we moved a lot, lived with my mom's many
boyfriends, in our car, in motels, in a van and once we got to go to
live at a shelter.
After my dad died we were introduced to my
aunt and uncle. Multiple times we stayed with them over night. One
morning when they took us back to the motel where we were staying with
my mom we saw ambulances and police cars in the parking lot. My MOM was
taken to the hospital from a drug overdose.
We ended up staying
with our aunt and uncle for a while . . . people we hardly knew. I did
the best job I could watching over my brother Sam - I fed him, changed
him, and played with him.