Journal of an Instant Mother - Part 06 of 11

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Part 6 of 11

Monday, November 30, 2015

If you're in retail, Black Friday marks the start of the Christmas Rush. For a photographer, the following Monday seems to be the start of the Christmas Rush. People are too busy standing in front of some store at five in the morning waiting for a bargain to sit down for their Christmas Card Photo.

My older colleagues tell me tales of shooting roll after roll of 35mm film, then rushing them off to the lab for processing. Then they had to pick up the proofs for the customer's approval, send the approved negative to the lab for printing, wait for it to be done and then distribute the resulting cards, postcards or fancied-up letters in time to have them arrive in the mailbox before Christmas.

Digital changed all that, and I was born late enough I never had to worry about 35mm as a professional. Now I take a bunch of shots and put them up on a screen for the customer to pick their favorite before they leave my studio. They pick the package they like and the click of a mouse sends it off to the lab electronically. A few days later it arrives at their doorstep without any further action on my part. Oh yeah, their payment is electronically credited to my account before they leave the studio, too.

Now if we could only find a way to apply this system to feeding a baby…

One peculiar thing did happen today, though. My last customer was so enamored with Dawn, who was happily batting at the mobile over her porta-crib, that they insisted on having her in their Christmas picture.

Say what?

Well, what the heck. Dawn has had so much attention in her short life that she is perfectly happy to be held by strangers, so why not? The pictures came out splendidly, but I would really like to know how they explained a baby that wasn't theirs in their Christmas letter.

They say the customer is always right. A bit strange, but always right.
 

Monday, December 7, 2015

Last foster parent class today. Who would have thought I'd consider this class a relief from my normal pursuits? The days have been crammed with people getting their Christmas card pictures, I've gotten to feel like we have a production line going. Darcy has us booked solid, and I think even she is getting worn out. Where that girl gets the energy is a mystery.

I haven't said much about the classes, they're interesting but not something worth putting down on paper. Actually, I have reams of papers with all the things a foster parent needs to know. If parents who chose the usual route to having a baby had to do all this we wouldn't have the population explosion to worry about. That's not a very strong bitch, though. After reading some of the things that have gone wrong with fostering I fully support trying to protect the children, first, last and always.

I've become sort of a minor celebrity in the class, learning at the same time I'm fostering. There never seem to be enough people willing to foster all the kids who need help, try as the authorities might. Lord knows I never thought about being a foster parent until I came upon the horror of Dawn's mother's suicide. I can't think of a better use for my life than to bring up this little girl as a strong, loving and intelligent woman.

I'm still pumping during the breaks, and Mary Ann and Sheila have joined me for a little girl talk once they realized what I was doing. Mary Ann is the mother of three, Sheila has no children of her own and is looking forward to being a mother, even if it is a temporary condition.

Which reminds me, my own mother tells me that the adoption is going forward, just slowly - such things make glaciers seem related to the Indie 500. I'm not holding my breath.

In a fit of insanity, I invited all the class members to come over to the house on Saturday to take a group photo and have a picnic. We all get along quite well and everybody was agreeable. Looks like Darcy is going to show off her skills at posing a large group photo.

Speaking of Darcy, her efforts have paid off in increased business to support the three of us. I knew that transitioning would change my life completely, but I had no idea…
 

Wednesday, December 9, 2005

I just about died of curiosity today. The mail comes in the morning, and in it was a letter addressed to Darcy from the community college. She's been waiting to see if she has been accepted in the photography program and, even if it sometimes feels like we're married, we aren't and I shouldn't open that letter. But I wanted to.

She was off doing something - I really don't know what - with her actual parents, so I had to wait for her to get home. We didn't have any customers this morning, so I played with Dawn until she took her nap. Then I stared at that damned letter.
Nice thick envelope, holding it up to the light did no good. I fruitlessly recalled reading several old mysteries from the twenties and thirties (the nineteen twenties and thirties!) where the hard-boiled detective and his moll steamed open a letter and read it before re-sealing it and sending it on.

Yeah! Like I could do that. Maybe I could get Dawn to drool all over it and it would come unstuck. Too bad I don't have an x-ray camera or a CAT scanner. I was getting pretty damn silly by the time Darcy got home and I gave her the letter.

She ripped it open with a flourish and screamed: "I'm accepted!" and did a little dance of celebration. That woke up Dawn, so I took the time to tell her that she was the most wonderful baby in the world while Darcy read the letter.

Come the middle of January she would be a full time student. She rushed off to her computer to log on and start selecting courses before they were full. Loud music started to emanate from her room, a sure sign she was concentrating hard, so Dawn and I went off to the studio to once again earn our living. It's really going to be weird not to have my partner-in-crime here with me all the time, but education comes first!
 

Saturday, December 12, 2015

This morning Darcy and I toddled off to the supermarket with both Rory and Dawn in tow, to stock up on drinks, snacks burgers and hot dogs. The poor boyfriend had to share the back seat with the baby and mounds of paper products and other picnic supplies.

Rory got a sappy look when Dawn decided it was time to dine on Mommy with a side of disgusting-looking, gloppy rice baby cereal as an added gourmet treat. At least by now she's figured out what to do with that stuff we keep putting in her mouth and not as much of it dribbles down her chin. The stuff that comes out the other end has become noticeably more offensive, however.

The propane tank on the grill was full, the studio cleared for a group shot if I can't get a nice one in the back yard. It was a bit cool for partying outside, but OK for grilling. There are tables and chairs all over the house scrounged from my family and Darcy's relatives. Rory did a yeoman's job with the setup - men are good to have around sometimes.

My fellow foster-class students and their families arrived at two o'clock and the party started, with a whole bunch of kids using the swing-set that came with the place and I haven't used since I was a kid myself. I suppose there are a few more years to go before Dawn is interested in it.

We had a ball! The kind of people who are willing to take a child into their home on short notice are simply my kind of people. Sure, you read the occasional story of some horrific foster parents, so I have to admit the social workers are not omniscient in their selection process, but I have faith in the goodness of people and it's usually returned.

Everyone was thrilled to meet the recipient of the milk I had been pumping during the class breaks, and Dawn could have been a football for all she was passed around. By the way, there are few things in this world cuter than the shy smile of a three-year-old allowed to hold a real, live baby on her lap. Darcy and I both filled our memory cards with pictures that afternoon. I do think that about half of her card was taken up by Rory, though.

Flopped out on the couch that evening after everyone had gone home (and they all helped clean up before they left!) I was struck by the thought of how nice it was to have a houseful of friends who had no idea I was trans and probably wouldn't have cared if they knew. I was a woman and a mother and I was accepted.

It's a good feeling!
 

Sunday, December 20, 2015

Dawn's four month birthday. So noted, but this time we didn't bake cupcakes or go gaga over the day. Dawn didn't seem to care, but we love her anyway.
 

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

"It seems like ages since I've seen you, Emma."

"It seems like a long time when you're used to more frequent appointments. Since I haven't had a panicked phone call from you I hope that means things are going well."

"Other than kicking myself for not having the courage to make the transition much earlier, I've never been happier in my life. My friends and family have accepted me as a woman and a mother, I have a partner I can rely upon and a child to cherish. Things are going swimmingly!"

"Partner?"

"Not a romantic partner, although sometimes we both feel like we're married. Darcy is the grand-niece of a friend who moved in with me to help with Dawn and has become my business partner as well. She has a definite talent for photography and a feeling for merchandising. Her marketing talents have increased my business considerably and we are both working almost full time to keep up."

"Hope, I'm not sure what I expected when you finally transitioned, but you have exceeded those nebulous expectations. I notice you don't have Dawn with you today."

"Darcy has her, she's started on cereal supplements and goes a bit longer between feedings now. That's the good part, but after a few hours I sometimes think my breasts are going to fall off they're so full of milk."

"Another expectation I never had. How does that make you feel?"

"It's the next best thing to being able to have a baby. Being able to nurture my child from my body is something I never considered and I'm going to miss it when she starts to grow up."

"Weaning my children was also a bittersweet experience. Life goes on and being able to cope with the changes is essential."

"So you've told me. I think having Dawn has made me aware of setting priorities and considering the welfare of others like I had never done before."

"And the hormone regimen?"

"So far no real problems. The occasional mood swing, but that's par-for-the-course with mothers, or so I have been told. Adding the hormones to let me breastfeed doesn't seem to have made any difference. I make sure to keep up regular blood work to be sure things are where they belong for a nursing mother."

"So you're three months into the Real Life Test. Have you given any thought to what happens when the year is up?"

"If you give the go-ahead I'm off to Thailand as soon as the stars align and I can be sure Dawn is cared for properly. Darcy has promised she will be there for Dawn while I'm gone and her Aunt Ursula is ready to help, too."

"You seem to have quite the support system."

"I've gotten an entire new family along with Darcy. Remember I told you about the police Lieutenant who was there when I found Dawn?"

"I think so."

"Well Lieutenant Ursula has become a good friend, for all that's she's my parent's age. She's retiring at the end of the year and says she'll be there for me when the time comes."

"Excellent! Hope, you seem to be well along the path to success. I could wish some of my other patients were as successful, but it never does to compare patients; they are all unique and such comparisons are useless."

"I have direction and purpose in my life now, and I intend to live this new life to the fullest."

"And with that, make an appointment for two months from now and I'll see you then.
 

Wednesday, December 23, 2015

A miracle happened this morning - Dawn woke me up at six in the morning. The miracle was she didn't wake me up at four in the morning! That's close enough to sleeping through the night to call for a celebration.

Well, actually the celebration had to be delayed - my bladder is used to being emptied as regularly as my breasts and I had to pee something wicked. I don't think I left a trail on the way to the toilet, but it was damn close.

Once that little situation was taken care of I realized my breasts were positively huge! When I lifted one to settle Dawn into place I actually shot a stream of milk across the room. A human fountain, that's me. The greedy little cuss certainly did her part to deflate them and soon I was far more comfortable than when I woke up.

Naturally her diaper was soaked having slept so long and we both needed some cleanup by the time she was satisfied, but talk about your early Christmas presents!
 

Thursday, December 24, 2015

We had a quiet Christmas Eve, just the three of us. We exchanged some small presents and drank cocoa while musing on how sweet our lives had become. Big family celebrations tomorrow and Saturday. Ursula got stuck working on Christmas again, but she has New Year's Eve off and is officially retired on January 1, she's a happy camper.

That will be a very literal description, as she and her husband Eric bought an RV and will be hitting the road to see what adventures await. I'm going to miss her visits, but they'll be back in a couple of months and staying the summer. They plan to be snowbirds even if we don't get that much snow here.
 

Friday, December 25, 2015

Christmas! Dawn is too little yet to care about it, but Darcy surprised me with a stocking from "Santa" this morning. Appropriately, the stocking contained stockings - and chocolate. I guess Santa must have a deal with the Easter Bunny, because chocolate is an appropriate gift any time of the year. I wonder when we can let Dawn have a sample. Somewhere in an album at my parent's house there's a picture of my brother Ralph from about that age on the day they fed him mushed peas and chocolate. Big smile with the spoon clamped in his mouth and gloriously messy from forehead to navel. I guess Mom had an adventurous streak back when she was a young mother.

I'm in no hurry to reproduce that picture.
 

Christmas dinner was almost a repeat of Thanksgiving, except there was a ham instead of a turkey. This time, Weird Uncle Burt wasn't surprised when I put Dawn to my breast, but I did catch him trying not to look as I fed her. The poor man just doesn't know what to think.

When Dawn had finished, I mixed up a small bowl of baby cereal for her and plopped her in Burt's lap. We all had a ball watching Burt try to get some of the gloppy stuff into her mouth. Even though she is getting better at figuring out what to do with the cereal, she still gets quite a bit dribbling down her chin.

Burt had a hard time being grumpy when the baby made happy noises at him. I couldn't get her back until she filled her diapers. Funny how that always ends a baby play session for anyone but the parents.
 

Saturday, December 26, 2015

Since Ursula had to work Christmas (she volunteered since she was retiring on New Year's Day and this would be her last time) Darcy and I expected her family dinner to be as much a repeat of Thanksgiving as we had yesterday. Charles Dickens already got his hooks into the phrase great expectations, but what actually happened was completely unexpected.

We were shocked when we arrived, Ursula did not look good at all. She was moving like an automaton and her color was not good. Where was the strong-willed police lieutenant who got me and everyone else through the bizarre suicide that brought Dawn into my life? What could have happened?

We made it through a rather subdued dinner, but after we had eaten Eric quietly came over to me and asked if I could spare some time to talk to his wife. Of course I could! I couldn't say were best friends, but in the three months since we had met we had formed a strong connection - if Ursula needed to talk then I was ready to listen.

We settled in Eric's hideaway - a room most carefully not referred to as a man cave, but was a small and comfortable place with furniture meant to relax in. Relaxed we weren't, but it was a place that encouraged confidences.

"What happened, Ursula," I asked before she could say anything. "Something obviously has you shaken."

"It's an ugly story, Hope. I've been a cop for over forty years and I thought I'd seen just about every kind of ugliness that someone could think of, but yesterday I found out I was wrong. I hate to screw up your holidays, but in a way it connects to you. Not personally, but knowing you has given me some insights that … Hell - I don't know how to say it!"

"When I get in a state my shrink always tells me to just start at the beginning and go from there. Not that I'm a shrink, but I have reclined on a few couches."

"I'm worried about imposing on your friendship. I don't want to treat you as an impersonal source because of who you are - this may have started on my job but what's bothering me isn't really a police matter - it's more a matter of trying to understand what happened.

"The beginning may be a bit hard to find here. I guess I'll start where I came into the story. 911 got a call about ten o'clock last night that someone had been shot. Sadly, the holidays bring out extremes of behavior both good and bad, and I got the call when the patrol officer saw the body. This couple got home from a Christmas party and found their child had committed suicide in their bedroom while they were out.

"A very messy suicide. She had gotten dressed to the nines - evening gown, jewelry, four-inch heels and full evening makeup. She sat down at her mother's makeup table in their bedroom, put a gun in her mouth and pulled the trigger. I think she wanted her face to remain beautiful, but her brains were all over her parent's bed. Sorry - that's how I found her."

"How awful!"

"It's the forth suicide I've seen in my career - I've kept count - but it was by far the worst. I think the mess was very intentional. Things went downhill fast when I tried to question her parents. Her mother was hysterical, but her father was in a towering rage. When I asked for his daughter's name he started screaming he didn't have a goddam daughter - he had a perverted sicko son."

"Oh shit!" That slipped out before I could put up any barriers.

"Yeah, oh shit. Hope, you're the only transwoman I've known personally. Sure, I've met the odd drag queen or tranny whore when I was in uniform, but I know you as a person. That girl had a signed picture on vanity and she was beautiful! She signed it with love to Mom and Dad!

"Her father kept going on about getting the trash out of his bedroom and why didn't the police keep perverts like that out of his house. Honestly, it was all I could do not to tell the asshole to shut the fuck up! I know - not professional, but sometimes…"

"You did better than I would have under the circumstances. I probably would have slapped the bugger silly, and I don't care if I would have been acting just like the stereotyped swish to do it! I don't have to worry about being professional!"

"Hope, it's shaken me. I can't imagine the pain that poor girl went through. Not only to end it, but to do it in such a way. I can't help but think she had as much hate in her as her father had. It's such a waste!"

"Ursula, there have been times when I thought about ending it all, but I have a loving family who accepts me and cherishes me. I was never seriously thinking about suicide, yet I've known others in my counseling group who have been through hell; and some who tried and failed. What makes the difference? I'll be damned if I know."

"I don't think anyone will ever know. I just can't help thinking of that poor girl trapped in such despair and hopelessness and anger that she threw away her life. Sometimes being a policeman isn't enough."

"Sometimes being a human isn't enough, but I feel better knowing that there are people like you who are police officers, who do care about people. I just wish the stories of your kind of cop made the front page and not just those of the bad actors who bring shame to the police."

"Don't I wish… I'm almost glad I'm retiring, every time I read about another black man - and it seems like it's always a black man - gunned down by the police I want to cry. We're supposed to be protecting people, not killing them!"

"The problems will never end, we just have to keep coping. I just hope that poor girl has some people who will mourn her passing. She at least deserves that."

"I don't know, it passed out of my control when the coroner took over."

"Maybe Dawn and I should attend the funeral. I didn't know her, but it's the least I could do for a sister who I couldn't help."

"I think I would like to be there, too, if only to be sure she is treated respectfully as the woman she was."

"We can only try, but now I'm afraid my daughter is going to be demanding my presence shortly or I'm going to start leaking."

"I guess that makes it the best of times and the worst of times all at once, eh mother?"
 

After talking to Ursula I was just as subdued as she had been. I just sat quietly in a chair, breastfeeding my child and trying to absorb what she had told me. Feeding Dawn is a wonderful experience, but it can hardly be considered all-absorbing. It is a good time for some serious contemplation, and I had some contemplating to do.

I knew as well as anyone could the overwhelming need to make my body match my mind, but it was quite foreign to me to have so much hate for another person that I could do what my tortured sister did.

Did the father teach the daughter how to hate? Was the need to hurt someone else inherent in their personality? Their genetic makeup? What could drive a person to abandon hope so completely that they would kill themselves?

What would I have done if my parents weren't the loving and understanding people they were? Could I have become someone who would pick such a messy and spectacular way to thumb my nose at an intolerant world? That could have been me if my world had not had the love I've found.

Violence. How could such violence become acceptable? I knew the pain and isolation of being a transwoman in a straight world, but never once had I wanted to harm people who didn't understand. Metaphorically beat some sense into them, sure. Pound my fists on the floor and scream into my pillow at times. Even deliver a dope slap like in the cartoons. But to actually, physically harm someone - myself included?

Never.

The answer is never. Period. Full stop.

Despite my deep thoughts, I was distracted as Dawn lost her hold and rooted around until she found my breast again. Looking fondly at that small face and the tiny hands gently massaging my breast, I knew the sort of love that makes people whole. I had been firmly told that in Darcy's family, nursing mothers need not hide their breasts with a cloth, but I should let everyone see the miracle of a child nursing.

Miracle. A small one, but potent.

A family with empathy, and that's when I realized that it could be the ability to put yourself in the place of another human being that made all the difference. It may not be the dictionary definition of empathy, but it works for me.

Even as a small child I can remember wondering what my dolly thought of at our tea parties. That the dolly was an object that couldn't think was of no import; I could imagine myself as a dolly at a tea party. As I grew older I could imagine myself as a nurse or a fireman or a skydiver - whatever exotic career had taken my fancy at that moment. It wasn't much of a jump to imagine myself as a woman.

Empathy was certainly lacking in my short brush with Dawn's grandfather. It would seem that Ursula's victim lacked that essential human characteristic as well. Painful as it was, I could imagine myself so terribly distressed that suicide seemed the best option. Not that it was an option for me, but I understood the path the woman was on; a path I could never be so selfish as to take.

With an exquisite sense of timing, I felt arms wrap around me and Darcy was there with a hug.

"So somber, boss. It's Christmas - not a time for deep thought and long faces."

"But it is a time to count your blessings, and two of mine are with me at this very moment. I'm blessed with a loving family, an equally loving adopted family, a prosperous business and a wealth of understanding friends. The entire world may not be joyful this night, but I most certainly am. Thank you, Darcy."

"Merry Christmas, Hope."

"It certainly is."
 

Thursday, December 31, 2015

New Year's Eve. Well, technically it's now January, but as I haven't been to bed yet it still feels like New Year's Eve. A rather quiet time, spent with Darrel and his family at their place. Felt a bit odd at first, not playing poker.

Darcy spent the evening with her family - also felt a little funny not to be together for a holiday. Funny how being a mother changes your perspective on so many things. New Year's just doesn't feel like party time any more, now it feels right to spend time as a family with another family.

Entertainment was simple - board games mostly. (No - not poker!) I was introduced to Settlers of Catan, one of those world building games with a weird playing board and rules that the novice has to keep being reminded about. Once I got the hang of it it was fun, but both of the kids beat the pants off of me. And yes, I was wearing pants tonight - it's gotten a bit cool for skirts lately.

About the only chance I got to hold Dawn was when she got hungry, otherwise Darrel's family monopolized her or she snoozed in the porta-crib. We all had a wonderful time, and I was introduced to the Compton family tradition of pizza at midnight. Darrel and son Dillon made it from scratch, disappearing from the game room every so often to make the dough or slice the veggies. It was delicious, but I had to request slices without pepperoni - spicy foods seem to make it into my milk and Dawn doesn't approve.

All in all a wonderful year. Not anywhere like I had planned it to work out, but I wouldn't trade Dawn and Darcy for anything. There's a whole new year ahead, and I hope it will be as satisfying as the one just past.
 

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Despite the best intentions of Ursula and I, we could not attend the funeral of my fallen sister. The family refused to even hold a service, simply placing her in her grave without ceremony, refusing to even allow her chosen name to be carved on the stone. Even in death she was shunned.

I'm disgusted.
 

Saturday, January 23, 2016

How in the world did I go so long without writing anything in this journal? Again. Might have something to do with trying to keep up with a baby and a job and a kid in school and…

You get the idea, right?

I didn't even write anything for Dawn's five month birthday. I suppose as she gets older the monthly birthdays seem to be less important. Dawn is sitting up by herself now and will laugh back at you when you go 'ha-ha' at her. She dances on her own feet when you hold her hands and babbles just to hear herself making happy noises. Happy baby noises are one of life's pure, unadulterated pleasures.

On the other hand, unhappy baby noises are enough to drive a mother to distraction and wonder just why she ever chose to take home the little screamer.

I'm better now… She's a good kid, really.

She's eating regular baby food pretty well now, and I'm feeling rather full at times when she isn't interested in nursing. A long way from weaning, but it's coming sometime. With any luck, she won't develop teeth before she decides Mommy is a secondary source. I cringe at the thought of my nipples being bitten.

Get you mind out of the gutter - we're talking babies here, not love bites. If I ever get the chance to have someone besides Dawn at my breasts I am certainly not thinking of biting as love play.

I was going to write about poker night and got distracted. Darcy had something going with Rory tonight, so Kathy watched Dawn so I could play poker without being constantly distracted. It must have worked, I made more from the boys than I paid Kathy to babysit. I don't think I'll take up a career as a professional gambler, though.

The gang has pretty much settled down to having a female at the games, as have a couple of the wives who - shall we say - had doubts about me hanging out with their men. The conversation is a bit less bawdy now that Hope is playing, but we all have a good time. I'm glad that hasn't changed.
 

Sunday, February 14, 2016

I wasn't ready to have a bouquet of flowers delivered this morning - I wasn't even thinking much about Valentine's day. I was doing a portrait series for a young couple who were very much in the throes of young love and was in my own dream world trying to get that love to show up for the lens when the deliveryman came by. The sign on the door of the studio says 'just come on in if the door is open' so he just came on in with a wonderful bouquet of flowers for me.

As a guy, Valentine's Day wasn't anything special - lots of little valentines for the class when I was younger, Mom & Dad kissing, that sort of thing. With no girlfriend I never thought much about it. The card on the flowers said 'to our favorite gal from your poker buddies.' I started sniffling and my young lovers thought it was the most romantic thing they had ever seen. It was just the spark to get the session going and the pictures came out beautifully. I blessed the autofocus option as I was having a hard time seeing through my tears for a while.

I've know I was a woman for most of my life, I've been a mother for some time now, but today I really knew that I was a woman.

Flowers.

For me!

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Comments

Families can be asses

All too familiar with that road...

Powerful Stuff

Lucy Perkins's picture

Goodness Ricky
This was a rollercoaster. Once again, brilliant but tinged with despair at the uncaring parents of the poor girl.
The Valentine's Flowers were a really lovely touch, and you are so right. The first time someone buys you flowers, that's when you know you are a real woman. I still have some of the rose petals saved.
Lucy
XX

"Lately it occurs to me..
what a long strange trip its been."

"Flowers for me"

lovely stuff. And what keeps some alive and others to die? Heck if I know. I got to the edge 3 times, not counting general self-destructive behavior, and somehow, I'm still here.

DogSig.png

Rough

BarbieLee's picture

The stories from the girls from so many years ago align with Ricky's tale. Dying from someone's hate or their own hand, no funeral, or closed casket services, not a funeral. If a funeral was allowed only her friends showed, no family. Suicide was very common, no support from family or society. Shall we talk about being sent to mental institutions and a lobotomy performed as a cure? Some of the girls made it out still being whole. Others weren't so fortunate. All that was still happening as late as the early sixties. Haven't met any of the survivors or read any of their stories? Not surprising, we don't talk about those things now. Where do you think Harry Benjamin got his ideas trans were mentally sick? I despise that monster with a passion for what he brought to the world for trans treatment. I hope he rots in Hell.
Sorry Ricky, some of us were there as were a lot of others on this channel. I think I got just a little too close to the evils of how so many of the girls were treated to forgive or forget. Too close to some of the girls who were murdered or took their own life. They weren't a name in the obituary.
Hugs Ricky
Barb
-------------

Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl

Another set of parents lacking in compassion

Jamie Lee's picture

That boys parents are a real piece of work. Instead of being concerned for their son's welfare, all they could think of was how they'd look to others. And making their son conform to their ideals. And that father's reaction when they found their son's body makes one wish to take the man outside for a long chat, with a 2x4. Maybe those two should be fixed so no other child has to suffer at their hands.

Hope is indeed to have a group of people who accept her and Dawn, allow her to be part of their family.

Others have feelings too.