What do you have that you cherish? Friends, Family, wife, husband, a boyfriend or a girlfriend? Who or what is it you cherish the most?

Sometimes in the hustle and bustle of life we forget where we came from and what events formed who and what we are. We start taking for granted the things we have around us and forget those who gave us the beginning we needed to end up where we are. Have you done this? In some ways I sure have!

April 27, 1980 9:37 AM Eastern time, New Haven Yale Hospital, New Haven Connecticut. For those who know me, they know that this was the year and day i was born. Additionally the time and location of my birth. Somewhere i have my birth certificate that gives my weight as well, but we'll leave it at Moms description of "I was the size of a loaf of bread".

My biological mother, Lynn, was 16 years old at the time of my birth, far too young to take care of me. My biological father Robert, whom wouldn't admit to fathering me, quite likely due to his own mothers influence, was 15, again far too young to raise a child.

DCYS, which is Connecticut's version of child services, wanted to put me in their programs, which my sister was in for many years. My then grandmother wouldn't have it. she obtained temporary custody of me...temporary then became 8 years. 8 years in which i was raised, taken care of and helped.

After i turned 8 my grandfather and grandmother made a hard, yet easy decision. After much paper work and much ease in getting my biological mother and biological father, whom the latter only admitted fathering me for this purpose, to sign over all their rights and claims over me to them, i officially became the legally adopted son of Joan and Kenneth Wright.

They in no way were obligated to do this. they had "done their time" so to speak, in raising children. Mom had 5 of them before me after all, and she was in her 50's when they had taken me in at the time of my birth. By good rites, they should have been done with raising children after my brother was asked to leave. But they decided to take me on instead.

after 19 years of living with them i decided it was time to move out and i did, with my adoptive brother, which turned out to be a big mistake. I moved back in with them after two months and then with them up to Rome NY. then just half a year later i moved out again with my cousin, then with by myself. Yes believe it or not i actually had an apartment of my own at one time. It was during this time that i studied hard and became one of Jehovah's Witnesses myself, joining mom and other friends in the door to door preaching work, which at the time i wholeheartedly believed in and threw myself into it.

But after a couple of years of being on my own i had to back track, regroup and move back in with my parents. From there i stayed with them for 7 years until what happened with my failed marriage attempt brought me to Indiana, and from there Idaho and now Colorado. Most of you know my history from there.

I know a lot of people back in NY thought i took advantage of my parents, specifically a couple of people in my own family, and that couldn't be further from the truth. I did my best to provide for myself and give them what they requested as part of my keep, though I'm sure others would argue with that.

This morning, I received word that on Friday, August 6, 2010, my Adoptive father, Kennith R. Wright, passed away after his 3 year battle with a rare form of bone cancer. You can read the obituary here: http://www.nunnandharper.com/details.asp?id=41061

of course i feel horrible that he has passed away...its a loss to be sure. but what makes me feel worse is that...

I wasn't there. I wasn't there to be with my family during this time. I didn't get to attend the memorial services there at the Kingdom Hall in Rome NY. I didn't even know that it had happened until after the fact.

apparently people were trying to contact me. but i remember no email from anyone telling me something was wrong. i get so much junk mail and i try to find the ones that are not, especially ones that are important like that. I don't think i deleted it by mistake.

30 years ago, my parents made the decision to take me in. They were there for me all those years when they, in reality did not have to, nor were obligated too. They could have just as easily given me up to DCYS at birth. but they didnt...and who had the final say in both taking me in at birth, and later adopting me? Dad. As much as i dislike the way he treated me in my 20's, i still loved him, because he didnt have to step up and raise and provide for another child, but did it anyway.

I guess...thats really all i have to say.

*raises a glass* Heres to you Dad. Rest in peace!