Terry -- "My Mother"

If you are a first time visitor, you may want to start reading from June 5 to the present. This will give you the necessary background information for this post.

My sister Terry and I were inseparable after my father's death. When my mother was ill and not taking care of us, Terry and I would go searching for food. There is a record of the neighbors in our community "being up in arms" because we were going into other people's houses and looking for food. Terry was only thirteen months older, yet she was a foot taller, at least that is what it seemed like to me. We had our own bedrooms, but I remember getting scared and getting into bed with Terry. "Don't let your feet touch me," she would say. When we went into foster care, Terry and I were together. When we would come home, we were together.

As long as Terry was there, life was bareable. I can remember talking to some kids over the fence, in the back yard, and one of the kids (I think his name was Danny) asked us if we were going to stay at our house. Terry said she wasn't sure what we were going to do. After my father died, our preschool years were about survival.

There is indication in the records that one of our foster families wanted to adopt us. They had grown attached and we were bonding with them. Terry told a case worker that she didn't want to go back to our birth mother. I think she was tired of being a mother at 4 and 5 years of age.

Aunt Betty and the lawyer she worked forh came and picked us up, in agreement with Child Protective Services. This was the last time we saw our mother. We moved to Ft. Worth, and heard from my mother a couple of times on the phone. I can remember asking Terry if she was going to come pick us up and take us back to our home. Terry told me she wasn't ever coming back. I don't think that is what our birth mother said, but Terry knew instinctively.

next: Living with Aunt Betty