Mc
I called him "Dad" for a large portion of my childhood and lived as a foster child in his home. I grew up riding "Snowball" a white pony on Chiggerbit Farm, with Cathy, Bill and Peg. Long lazy summers in pastures of green, fishing and riding around the farm with my brother and sisters on a reconditioned postal truck. Sleepovers in an old caboose and feeding catfish in the pond. Growing up with the Clements was one of the greatest joy's and tragedies of my life. At age 17, my "mom and dad" returned me to Lena Pope Home with no explanation and no goodbye. I didn't understand what happened, I felt lost, numb, hopeless and confused. I waited for days knowing for sure that mom and dad would come and get me, but they never did. Everything I knew was gone, my family was gone and I was thrust into a world where I knew no one and had no understanding of how to function without my family. Years and years of homelessness, poverty, depression, attempted suicide followed, driven by the belief that I was so broken and horrible that not even my family wanted me. Forty years has come and gone and it still brings tears to my eyes when remembering the family of my childhood. Although I could be bitter, I consciously choose not to and instead will remember this man as my dad, someone I loved, who gave so much to me and will always consider family. Always in my heart....Love Mary❤️