“Growing up, there was a lot of chaos and turmoil in my home. I had two drug-addicted parents. And when I was 8, my mom started dealing drugs. People were coming and going. There were a lot of unsafe activities. There was alcohol. There was physical and other abuse. It was just an insanely unhealthy situation.

“But I was determined to have a good life. Whether they were passed out on the couch or whatever, it wasn’t going to affect my day. I kind of had to be the sun, moon and stars for myself. I had to be the author of my own life. I realized that if I didn’t make happiness for myself, then I’d be sitting in my room crying and miserable all the time.

“I tried my best to self-isolate or disassociate. I was doing a lot of escapism. I loved anything fantasy. I was a really smart kid, and I loved reading books. I loved writing stories. I also rode my bike a lot. Whatever it took to make sure I had a good time, despite what was going on around me. My sister was several years older, but she wasn’t really hands on with me. So I was pretty independent.

“When I was nearly 12, my mom seemed ready to stop doing drugs and turn over a new leaf. That was great. I was happy for her. But then she had herself a last hurrah, and she overdosed. She didn’t make it. I was devastated. Despite everything that had been going on for years, I loved my mom very much. Even though she was not awesome to me, I still thought the world of her. I was the kind of person who tried to make everything seem better than it really was.

“A few days after the funeral, without my knowledge, my father signed over his rights to me to my grandfather. And he left, just took off. I was pretty upset. I thought for sure that my mom’s death was going to be his wake-up call. That we were going to be OK. We were going to try to be normal people now. But that wasn’t the case.

Turning to drugs

“After I started living with my grandparents, my grandmother had a big stroke. I was helping take care of her. And because of my mom’s death, they all told me that she shouldn’t be under any more stress. So I was never really able to grieve. I had to swallow all that. I was so angry and lonely. It’s no excuse, but it’s kind of what led me down the path of doing drugs to numb those feelings

“As a high school freshman, I was falling off badly. I couldn’t see how anything was worth being sober for. I was doing any substance I could get my hands on. I was really addicted to certain prescription pills in my high school years. I wasn’t going to class. I was way behind on my credits. By my senior year, they put me in alternative school. The principal was like, ‘You need to get this under control.’ And I did buckle down and even finished early. You couldn’t tell me a damn thing. I was still on drugs, and I felt like a million bucks. I felt unstoppable

“I decided to do graduation huge. So I got a hotel room and stayed there for about three months. All my friends were with me. It was always a party. But when the end of summer came, everyone left.

“My lowest point came while lying on the hotel room bed after taking I don’t even know how many pills. I told myself if I overdosed that night, it wouldn’t even matter. Maybe I’d go where my mom went, and I wouldn’t hurt anymore. I started feeling like my heart was slowing down, and then I kind of faded. I was so accepting of, ‘I’m dying.’ But I woke up the next morning. And the heartbreak that I felt, realizing that I hadn’t died, was unbelievably heavy. I wanted to hang myself.

“Then I started thinking about when I was a kid, how I told myself that if nobody ever made the happiness, it was up to me. I felt that I’d let myself down because I hadn’t made any happiness for myself in a really long time. That’s when I decided to leave the hotel room, go home to my grandparents, and start making some changes.

‘These kids are awesome’

“At 18, I began a relationship with my now husband, Kory. We’d been best friends forever. We had our ups and downs, and when I was 20, I had a miscarriage. I’d told myself if I ever got the chance to be a mom, I’d make sure I had a normal family. So that rocked me really hard. It left me heartbroken.

“A few months after that, I got pregnant again, and we had our first biological son together. That put everything into perspective. Feeling the love of a child and for a child was groundbreaking. When he was about 9 months old, I learned that I was pregnant again. And I started to feel this dread. What if I can’t love this new child as much as my other one? I thought my love for my first son and my older stepson was enough.

“Then one day I told myself, this is going to be my mom’s baby. Even though my mom was very tan, my older sister had blue eyes and almost blonde hair, light skin. They told her, whenever you have a second child, it’s probably going to be a boy. She started fantasizing about having this angelic, blue-eyed, almost blonde-haired, light-complected little boy. Then here I come with tan skin, brown eyes, dark hair. Anyway, I told my husband that this was going to be my mom’s baby. I was sure it was going to be a boy with blue eyes. I woke up the next day with this sense of knowing, this peace. And sure enough, he was born exactly how I pictured.

“These kids are awesome. Our oldest will be 14 in February. Our middle son just turned 9 and our youngest is 7. I love all my children, but the youngest definitely holds a special place in my heart. He reminds me so much of my mom.

“Even though life was extremely difficult when I was young, with my mom on drugs and not always around, I loved her very much. So with my youngest, I’ve always had this sense of familiarity that I felt for my mom. Maybe I just dreamed the whole thing up. But I’ll embrace it. I feel like I deserve every single bit of magic there is.

Unwelcome health scares

“Four years ago, my husband was driving us home from Austin, and I started to feel weird. I was getting a headache, and my vision was getting fuzzy. I didn’t want to overreact. I was going to try to sleep the rest of the way.

“When we got home, I sluggishly walked into the house and basically passed out on my bed. I woke up the next day, opened my eyes, and there’s this big blind spot in my vision. I still had this splitting headache. And I’m like, what the hell is happening? I spent a lot of time with my grandmother after several strokes. I saw the symptoms present in her, but nothing like this. So I immediately put stroke out of my head.

“I was in the hospital a week, doing every test possible. They didn’t know what was going on. Until I got the CT scans back. Guess what? I had a damn stroke. I was beside myself. Here I was, 26 years old, and I’m like, what the hell? They have to give me medicine to calm me down.

“Then they do an ultrasound, and they find out that I have a hole in my heart. In rare cases, it can send a blood clot to your brain and cause a stroke. And I’m like, this cannot be happening to me. Haven’t I had enough bullshit in my life?

“I had been doing everything right around that time. I was hiking with my kids, eating right, drinking plenty of water. I was angry about the whole thing. It seemed so unfair. I’d been through so much already in my life, so I didn’t want anymore. Like, whoever has my voodoo doll, you can stop now.

“It happened during COVID. So I couldn’t have visitors. I was losing my mind because I’m away from my kids, my babies, who are extremely attached to me. I felt very isolated and stressed out. I had all these breakdowns, but then I started having breakthroughs. I was like, OK, I’m going to come out of here bigger and better. Nothing can stop me. I’m actually a tsunami. And it was because of my love for plants and gardening. I had big ideas that I was determined to make happen.

Gardening therapy

“Before my stroke, I had discovered a love for gardening. I found solace in plants, a purpose and sense of reward. I started collecting succulents, and I was having a whole lot of fun with it. It was very therapeutic. I was making breakthroughs without having to go to a therapist.

“I started to sell a few plants here and there through social media. Then I decided that I was going to make it into a little side business. It would allow me to stay flexible with the kids and do something for myself. So I set up a plant page on Instagram.

“Our family has deep roots in Baytown, and I wanted to find a way to connect with my community. I wanted everyone to love plants and gardening as much as I do. While I was in the hospital, I started focusing on what I’d do when I got out. I had this extensive knowledge from researching and working with these plants. And I’m like, I could teach people all about it. That’s what I’m going to do.

“Since then, I’ve done a lot. I’ve taught plant classes for little kids at daycares. I was blessed with an opportunity to work with students at an elementary school in La Porte. I’ve done countless classes for adults. I’m a regular at Baytown’s farmers market, and I plan to start going to the one in Mont Belvieu. It’s all about succulents. And I’m having a blast. Hopefully, making a difference in people’s lives.

“Looking back on everything that’s happened in my life, where I’ve been and where I am now, I feel this overwhelming sense of happiness, this sense of magic. Just knowing that I can do whatever I want to do. Overcoming adversity in every possible way. From drug-addicted parents to being a drug addict myself, to having a stroke, and permanently losing some of my vision. To having a husband, kids, and being able to be a loving person despite what I’ve gone through. I’ve never let anything stop me from doing what I want.

“I’m going to write a book about my life one day. It’s going to be fantastic. Just watch. I can’t wait.”

— Felicia Garcia

The post Magical life blooms after challenging start appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“When my dad died, he was just 41. He left behind my mom and five kids. I was the oldest at 16. The youngest was 3. The toughest part was just trying to go on with life.

“Mom was in such a state, figuring out what she was going to do. She had her high school education from a small town, and she was a very smart lady. But she had never been out there in the working world. She ended up getting remarried about a year and a half later.

“That was really hard for me and my brothers. All our family traditions were kind of turned upside down. He was a whole different kind of man. He was a truck driver. But he was a good man. He was good to my mom.

“Looking back on it all, I think one of the worst parts for me was that she wouldn’t even talk about what happened. I had nobody to talk to. Nowadays, there is plenty of help for people in that regard. But back then, you were expected to just get over it and move on.

“Well, I think it’s played out all through my life. I was kind of a loner. I was insecure about relationships. Never had a counselor to help me. Although I did at one point go through depression, and spent two weeks in the hospital. They never really broached the subject too much with me. I think I still deal with it. Probably every day, something enters my mind about it.

“One of my brothers got involved with hard drugs. He died of an overdose at 36. It just seemed like he never could get his life back together.

“My other brother battled alcoholism. He and I were separated by that for many years. He’s 71 now, and has been in recovery with the help of Alcoholics Anonymous. Through his AA work, he has helped so many other people with their struggles. It might sound strange, but you almost feel like it was his purpose in life.

“I live close to him now. And I’m happy to say that we see each other nearly every day.”

— Eugene Harrott

(Note: Eugene Harrott passed away on May 27, 2023.)

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The post Dad’s death has lasting impact on children appeared first on The Baytown Project.

(2 of 3) “I was an alcoholic for many years. I’m not blaming it on Pedro. He had to move around for his work as a pipefitter. We were away from each other a lot, until I started traveling with him. When I was in my mid-to-late 20s and we lived in Florida, I was alone a lot with our two young kids. And I just started drinking.

“We both partied a lot. We started using cocaine. After we moved to Texas, we were using even more. Pedro was basically a gangster back in the day. Like, his young, rough days before we met. And all of those people were still around. We’re not blaming them for what we did. It was just that the ease, the access, the environment was there.

“Pedro was making crazy good money, and we spent it almost as fast as he made it. Those are kind of dark times that are still hard to talk about. The kids knew that payday was when they got to pick out whatever they wanted at Walmart. They would get their Happy Meal. And they could do their thing at the house, while Mom and Dad would do their thing. It was not like we had big parties. It was just Pedro and me.

“Looking back on those days, it was ugly. It was terrible. We were very irresponsible.

“We were living here about a year and a half before he had the accident. We had quit drinking and everything about three weeks before that. But while he was in the hospital for three months, I went back to drinking. I don’t know, maybe I thought it helped me cope. It was a really strange and dark time for me personally.

“When he came home, I was going to be his caregiver. I knew I would have to be straight thinking and organized, and prepared to work hard because of all the responsibilities that came with that. So the day before he came home from the hospital was the last time I’ve had a drink.

“My number one gift to myself, to my children, to my family, is my sobriety. I no longer have those chains that held me down for so long.”

— Kimberly Infante

Kimberly got a good job after earning an accounting degree from Lee College with a 3.7 grade point average. “There’s no way I would have had it in me to do all this pre-accident.”

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• ‘I knew something was terribly wrong’

• ‘Up and leaving him was never on my radar’

The post ‘My number one gift to my family is my sobriety’ appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“I worked for a while at the hospital as a CNA [certified nursing assistant]. When I had my youngest son, I started staying home. I was working 12-hour shifts. But I decided that him being successful was more important. I wanted to make sure he stayed on the right path throughout school. I wanted to keep him from drifting off into doing bad things. I felt as long as I was able to stay on him and keep him occupied, like playing sports, it would be better than some kid out there doing mischievous things and getting into trouble.

“I had just been through it with my older son. He had a few problems. He kind of stepped off into the wrong direction. He ended up doing a little time. But he’s changed his direction and his ways. He’s doing OK now. My daughter’s also doing well. She had her first baby, who’s 8 months old and very spoiled. I’m extremely proud of my kids.

“I went through some challenging times, overcoming drugs and being an addict. The turning point was when my best friend for years was murdered. It was a case of wrong place, wrong time. He was walking away from a situation, and they shot him four times. It was a life-changing moment. I figured that could easily have been me. I’ve been sober for five years now. It’s a struggle every day. My kids are what keep me going.

“My youngest son lives with his dad. He was in high school when we separated. Because I didn’t want to disturb his stability, I told him he should stay with his dad. He was pretty upset.

“But he’s a senior now. He’s a very smart kid. And he loves football. He’s played it all his life. He’s hoping to get a college scholarship. He’s got some scouts looking at him. He wants to be able to play on Saturdays. After that, he wants to play on Sundays in the NFL. He’s really motivated.

“While I’ve made some mistakes along the way, I’ve never regretted leaving that nursing job. If I didn’t, my son might not be in the position he’s in today.”

— Rachel Rayon

The post Mom intent on son being successful appeared first on The Baytown Project.

(1 of 5) “My sister, Nita, and I grew up in an abusive home. We were both in and out of the system, she more than I. She went to the Chimney Rock in Houston when she was 14. It’s a CPS placement for adolescent teens. A lot of recruitment goes on there. That’s how she met her trafficker. She ended up being trafficked from age 14 to 21. She also got pregnant by one of her traffickers, and had a child at 17.

“When she finally got out, there was this whole process to begin healing and try to move on. Back then, people would look at her as just this teenage prostitute with a pimp. Human trafficking wasn’t really talked about. It didn’t have the platform it has now. There wasn’t a lot of help for her. There wasn’t a lot of hope. So she did go through some drug addiction and trying to heal herself.

“She lost custody of her son. He went to our abusers and then to his father, who was her trafficker. It was a bad situation. But my sister fought tooth and nail for years to get her son back. She eventually did in December 2014. He was 14.

“Having lived with our abusers, he went through abuse himself. And because he was with his father, the trafficker, he grew up not really respecting his mother. When Nita got her son, he was doing drugs. He was out of control. He was violent. But all she wanted was to help him, to get him back on track.

“In September 2015, Nita was 17 weeks pregnant. Her son had been back with her for about nine months when one day, she asked him to help her paint a cabinet. That led to an argument. He ended up stabbing her 57 times. She survived the attack, so he wrapped an electrical cord around her throat and strangled her. Her unborn child also died.”

— Betty Simons

Nita Marie Moseley died on Sept. 26, 2015, at age 33.

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• Nita’s Angels fights for trafficked girls

• It’s safety first when working on the streets

• Sister’s light shines through work of Nita’s Angels

The post Pregnant mom’s life ends at hands of her son appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“If it was not for what I’d gone through, then I couldn’t do what I do now. I’m what’s called a mental health and addiction recovery peer support specialist. Simply by the word peer, it means that I’ve been there, done that. I realized that for the first time in my life, my path, my past, could actually become my asset.

“When I help someone as a recovery coach, I’m not as concerned about what they did in the past. What I want to know is what can I do to help them in their recovery today. I’m a barrier breaker. If there’s something standing between them and being sober today, we talk about it. We figure it out together so that I can help them through it.

“One of my passions is working with the homeless. I’ve been homeless. But never to the extent that I was during 2020. That was a very, very hard year for me. When I worked at the Sobering Center in Houston, many of our clients were homeless. One of the worst things you can do is take away hope from someone. Once someone has no hope, it’s the worst feeling in the world. So when I was able to sit down with someone, especially older people, and relate my story — that I didn’t get clean and sober until I was 57 — you could see that little spark of hope come back.

“What I do is absolutely amazing. I think it’s my purpose. I used to ask God, ‘Why? What made me walk down this path? Why did you let me do this?’ God always has an answer, a bigger picture. We only see a very small part of it. And I think the reason I had to walk down that path of drug addiction and going in and out of prison was simply because now, I can turn around to somebody else and lend them a helping hand up. It’s the most fulfilling thing.”

— Karen McKee

Karen is a recovery coach who currently serves as residential manager for a safe house at Rescue Us Mission in Houston.

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• From life of drugs to recovery coach

The post Now she helps others with their addictions appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“By the time I was about 25, I started running around with people who did things that were just unheard of when I was growing up. That’s how I got into drugs. Except for the four years when I was bringing my children into the world, I had never been clean. Because of that addictive lifestyle, I had 26 arrests and 23 felonies. The only thing I was doing successfully was going to prison. When I was arrested for my 24th felony, I was looking at a 20-year term. Prison would have been a retirement home for me. I would have died there.

“So I began praying and campaigning about getting into the STAR Drug Court. With the help of my long-time criminal attorney, I was interviewed and approved. STAR stands for Success Through Addiction Recovery. It’s a very strict drug treatment program. If you complete the four years, then that felony is taken off your record. The deferred adjudication and not going down for 20 years was great. But what meant the most to me was that at age 57, I was finally able to be clean and sober.

“My mantra was, relapse is not an option today. It was a day-to-day, sometimes a moment-to-moment thing. Finally one day I just realized, hey, I didn’t even think about drugs today. That was an eye-opener for me. That was when I realized, hey, I might just have this. Now I don’t get so comfortable as to think that I’ve got this licked. I’m always going to be an addict. But I’m not going to be a using addict. I’m an addict in recovery.

“You know, most people who have even one felony say, ‘Oh, I can’t get a job now. My life is ruined. It’s over.’ Well, it doesn’t have to be. I’m a prime example of that.”

— Karen McKee

Karen, now 63, became a recovery coach. Her first job in that role was with the Houston Recovery Center. She recently began working as residential manager for a safe house at Rescue Us Mission in Houston. The nonprofit organization provides transitional care to survivors of human trafficking.

Related:

• Now she helps others with their addictions

The post From life of drugs to recovery coach appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“The first time I started coming to this church, I just let a few little things get to me, and I fell right back into the old me. I was having a hard time reading the Bible. I didn’t really even know how to pray or talk to God that well. This time, it’s come so much easier. I’m totally ready for it now.

“I don’t care what anybody thinks when I walk out in those streets. I haven’t really left too much. One time I did leave to take one of the leaders here and another lady to the bus stop. On the way there and on the way back, there were at least five people who wanted something related to Kush or blunts. After they got on that bus, I could not get back here fast enough. I ran back like a little kid.

“I’m not ready to go back out there yet for good. I ask for patience. But be careful what you ask for because I’ve had test after test after test. And I find myself getting mad over the littlest stuff. I know it’s the devil just eating at me, saying, ‘You’re not going to do it. You can’t do it this time.’ Yes, I am, man. I’m doing it. This is the longest I’ve ever been clean since I really started smoking weed around 19 or 20. Now, I’m just taking it one day at a time. All I know is that I don’t want to be the old me. I know that for a fact. I want to be better.

“I have a son who’s going to turn 19 on Dec. 30. I haven’t gotten to be around him very much because of the drugs and the alcohol and just being ignorant. I have pretty much neglected my son through all of this. But I don’t think he’s ready for me to come see him yet. I want to be totally clean. I want to be good. I want to have a job. I want to be a good dad. I want my son to see the change in me. For so many years, I was good at being bad. Now I want to be real good at being good.”

— Larry Pool Jr.

Having struggled for years with drugs and alcohol, Larry believes he’s on a better path in life thanks to House of Mercy. He’s currently staying at the local church, which is planning its second annual Christmas banquet on Dec. 7 for those without homes. It hopes to help 300 people from Baytown and surrounding communities by providing dinner, gifts, clothes, shoes, haircuts and showers. To learn how you can support this effort, contact Teresa McCartney Hoffart at 713-702-2848.

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• After friend’s death, ‘I just let go of the wheel’

• ‘I should be gone, but I’m still here’

The post Church helps on way to turning life around appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“After all I’ve been through, I’m fortunate to be here alive today. I’ve had heart surgery. I’ve been shot multiple times. I’ve lost close friends. It got to the point where I didn’t care about life anymore. I was done. I turned to drugs, alcohol and all that because I wanted to feel numb. Just numb the pain.

“I used to think it was just me, and that God didn’t really have a hand in any of it. But now, it’s the biggest part of me changing my life. It’s the biggest part of me still being here.

“One time, I was in the middle of a drug deal, where I was on my hands and knees. I just looked up and started praying. And out of nowhere, the idiot on one side with a .45 to my head and the idiot on the other side with a 9 millimeter, they put their guns down and began arguing. As they got into a little wrestling match, I started crawling backwards. As soon as I hit that door, I was gone. Now that I look back at it, there’s not a doubt in my mind that was God.

“Many times when I was in jail or prison, I would promise, ‘Hey, man, if you can just get me out of this, I’ll be good.’ When I got out, I was good for about two weeks. Then, bam, back to the same old stuff. I just don’t think that was right. I spit in God’s face a lot. It hasn’t been cool.

“I believe he has a calling on my life. I just don’t know what it is. I should be gone, but I’m still here. Now I’m trying to identify what my calling is and move ahead in a more positive way.”

— Larry Pool Jr.

Having struggled for years with drugs and alcohol, Larry believes he’s on a better path in life thanks to House of Mercy. He’s currently staying at the local church, which is planning its second annual Christmas banquet on Dec. 7 for those without homes. It hopes to help 300 people from Baytown and surrounding communities by providing dinner, gifts, clothes, shoes, haircuts and showers. To learn how you can support this effort, contact Teresa McCartney Hoffart at 713-702-2848.

Related:

• After friend’s death, ‘I just let go of the wheel’

• Church helps on way to turning life around

The post ‘I should be gone, but I’m still here’ appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“I grew up with messed-up feet. They were real club-footed, like turned in. To help fix them, I had to wear these casts that went all the way up my legs. When I was 8, they cut them down to below my knees. I also had to wear what I call Forrest Gump shoes with the bar in the middle to kind of force my feet out. When you’re the only one in school looking like that, other kids can be pretty mean. But I didn’t let it stop me. I wanted to play baseball. At first, when I would hit the ball, someone else would run for me. I got tired of that. I wanted to do it myself. And I did. But because I ran stiff-legged, I had to hit the ball all the way to the fence just to get to first base. I made the all-star team that season as the second-string pitcher. In the championship game, there were two runners on base, and I tattooed one and got a home run. That was the first time I got to touch all the bases.

“I was a pretty decent pitcher at La Porte High School. I threw a 93 miles-per-hour fastball, and I could put it anywhere: three inches off the plate, right on the plate, right at your face. I was offered a contract by the Cincinnati Reds. But my dad told me that getting an education was the most important thing. So I signed to play at Louisiana State University. After I got there, I started acting stupid and got caught twice with weed in my room. The second time, they kicked me off the team, took away my scholarship, and I had to go home. Needless to say, my dad was pretty disappointed in me. But he helped me get a tryout at San Jacinto College. I ended up making the team, along with a buddy of mine who was a catcher from Deer Park.

“When we were told that we had made the last cut, we went out to celebrate with our girlfriends. His girlfriend drove. On the way home, she dropped off my girlfriend first and then me. I was taking a shower when the phone rang. My dad said that a Hispanic lady on the line was really distraught about something, but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. I jumped out of the shower and figured out it was my buddy’s mom. I didn’t know exactly what was going on, so I got in my Camaro and raced over to their house. When I pulled up, I saw firetrucks, ambulances and police cars. I ran up to the porch, and all his mother could do was point. I turned around to look, and I saw my buddy pinned between his girlfriend’s car and another car. While he had been leaning in the window to give her a kiss, a drunk driver came around the corner and T-boned him. He waited about 15 minutes for me to get there, to tell me goodbye before he passed.

“That hit me real hard. I thought, that’s it, I’m done. I got in my car, drove to Last Drop Liquor, and bought two fifths of Jim Beam. I drank one in the parking lot. I finished the second one before I got to Highway 225. I jumped on 225 and just took off, about 120 miles an hour. I wasn’t stopping. I didn’t care anymore. I was done. As I got to where you’re supposed to turn onto the 610 Loop, I just let go of the wheel. It turned, and I ended up hitting one of the concrete poles or the wall at the end. I hit so hard that the engine ended up in my lap. The last thing I remember is getting into the ambulance. I woke up on a gurney in the emergency room, and I knew I wasn’t staying. So I took everything off. Just got up and walked out.

“Besides hitting a few balls and tossing it around with some buddies in the years since then, I left baseball behind. Because of all that happened, I just figured I wasn’t supposed to do it anymore. That part of my life was over.”

— Larry Pool Jr.

Having struggled for years with drugs and alcohol, Larry believes he’s on a better path in life thanks to House of Mercy. He’s currently staying at the local church, which is planning its second annual Christmas banquet on Dec. 7 for those without homes. It hopes to help 300 people from Baytown and surrounding communities by providing dinner, gifts, clothes, shoes, haircuts and showers. To learn how you can support this event, contact Teresa McCartney Hoffart at 713-702-2848.

Related:

• ‘I should be gone, but I’m still here’

• Church helps on way to turning life around

The post After friend’s death, ‘I just let go of the wheel’ appeared first on The Baytown Project.