Hey guys, what another beautiful weekend in Baltimore. Yesterday me and my girl troop went out to a Fall festival. And of course, it was free! Pony rides, moon bounces, games, face painting, and food (!!!). The kids had an awesome time and all I paid for was gas :)
After the festival, we went to visit my sister. The girls helped her bake a birthday cake for our aunt (her bday was yesterday) and we danced to music for at least an hour.
On the drive back home, I had an urge to drive to the house I grew up in. If you remember, I was placed in foster care at the age of 7. So I haven't been to the house in 20 years. But my mind told me to drive there. After all these years I still know the address and all the cross streets to get there. I passed both my primary and elementary schools on the way. As I got closer to the house, I started to tear up. I had my best memories here. Yes I was poor, yes I missed a lot of school, but I was loved.
As I pulled up to the house, I told the girls I use to lived there. Most of the block is abandoned buildings so the kids just looked at me crossed eyed. I took a couple of pictures and drove away.
I don't know why I wanted to drive there. Maybe my sister turning 25 made me realize how far we came, maybe because my late biological mother's bday is in 5 days or maybe because I've been lacking confidence in myself and God wanted me to remind me of where I came from. I don't know.
But I'm glad I drove to the house. Especially with my girls. My oldest two are around the ages my sister and I was placed with the state. Just thinking about that gives me chills.
What a life I had.
-Toodles
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