My Life: Before and After

     This picture was taken when my sister and I were first placed with our foster (and later adoptive) family in 1973.  I was five years old, and terrified.  The previous year of my life had been more chaotic than usual.  Our mother had died, our father was in prison, we'd been removed from our grandmother's home and were now living with a family we didn't know.  So, I have a lot of conflicting emotions when I look at this picture.

     Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like had my mother lived.  Would I even be alive?  The abuse my father inflicted on us would, no doubtedly, have continued and, most likely, increased.  Would that have made me a fighter or would it have broken me?  Would I have followed the generations before me and become a teen mother, seeking love and safety outside my family?
     To be honest, I really don't think I would be alive today.  I like to think that the inner strength I have now existed then, but I  suspect it would have gotten me into trouble with my father.  His temper would have been my end.  I am so thankful I was rescued from that.
     However,  I weep for the time I lost with my Grandmother.  We stayed in contact through letters and phone calls, but it wasn't the same as having access to her.  I can remember nights I cried myself to sleep because I missed her so much.

   
The picture also brings joy, knowing my life after this went uphill.  I had safety and security that I never felt before.  There was laughter instead of yelling, hugs instead of hitting, peace instead of chaos.  I had a family.
     I'm not saying it was a life free from conflict.  I had so many things to deal with in my mind.  I tended to overthink, to have both sides of a conversation in my mind, to think I wasn't worthy of anything.  And I had secrets which I fought all the time, which made it hard for me to open up or to receive love.  All these things made me "the odd girl out".

     While I didn't always fit in, I always had a place.  The parents I had lost were replaced, plus I gained more siblings.  The picture at the top makes me sad.  This last picture makes me happy.  My second family wasn't perfect but it provided what I needed to heal, and I am forever grateful for that.