Dear Lil Mac,
I am writing in hopes that when you are able to read you will have some sort of idea of what your early years were like. We met you in January 2009. I should say I met you–I met you first.
You were sitting quite nicely on a couch with your 18 month old hands folded in your lap. Whether they were put there for you, or if you pu them there was unclear.
The first friend of mine you met was (and still is) Elizabeth Van Jacob. Something, someone pulled the car in the direction of their home. I knew Elizabeth would offer you food, and I guess I needed to introduce the new “us” to someone.
Of course Elizabeth offered you food. Lots of it. Lil’ Mac, you ate a continual menu of meat, fruit, raisins, pretlzes . She put things in small bowls and tore meat in tiny pieces for you to eat. You were hungry. You screamed when we took food away.
You continued to scream when we took the food away. You also stashed food in drawers and couches-I watched you come return to food inthe dark.