The Earliest I Remember

I don't remember a whole lot about being put into a foster home. Only the bits and pieces that my sister, my dad, and my mom told me. I do know that where we were placed was no better than our home life. In fact, we were also abused there. So, whoever was responsible in that made the wrong decision. They thought I guess they were protecting us when in fact they were doing more harm than good.

While in the foster home I caught pneumonia from being left outside almost all night because I was crying, wanting my parents obviously. I was around 1. Apparently, I had a hospital visit and almost died because of what they did. What they did to my brother was far worse. They beat him. Badly. He is only a little over a year older than I am. He couldn't put his own clothes on obviously at 2 and every time he couldn't they would beat him for it. With whatever they could find. They made my sister do everything. I mean everything. I don't know of any abuse to her but I am sure there was. She just hasn't been as open about it. They once made her walk about a half mile (she was around 5) in the pitch black dark to the nearest neighbor to borrow something. Their was a convict on the lose. Can you imagine what that must make a child at that age feel like. Especially, after going through everything we had already been through at our tiny ages. The foster parent also tried to drown my sister.

We finally got to go home but I will never know if that was the right decision or not either. As the abuse even continued after that.

I do believe my dad loved us. But, he sure had a funny way of showing it. He wasn't around much when I was that age. In fact, he wasn't around when I was still in my mothers womb. He was off cheating on her with another woman. Claimed I wasn't his. Said he wouldn't take care of another man's baby. Apparently the lady he was having sex with ended up pregnant. He went back to my mother and never claimed the unborn child of the other lady. He decided to end up claiming me though.

Years later I questioned him and he got angry. I kept questioning though because I believed if I had a sibling I would love to know about them. He finally made the connection but it was little too late. He had already been deployed to Iraq. He is 1 year younger than me and looks almost identical to our other brother. He has met my sister and brother but has yet to meet me. I don't hold this against him. I'm not sure I'd want to be around either if you lived your whole life without a father claiming you.

But, then again if he had of lived life with us he wouldn't have wanted that one either. He would have had to suffer the abuse we did.

With that, I will end the second segment of my life journey. Feel free to comment or ask questions.