Dear Randy

When I was 12 years old, my mother told me about him, his name was Randy and he is the one who should have been my father. He is the one who actually loved my mother. He is the one who carries her name on his arm.

Wanting to meet this man, I learned that he was in jail. Without my mother knowing, I wrote to him, knowing this would be the only way I would meet him and in return, meet my mother.

This is more of a memoir of the time in my life that I was writing to Randy. Not just the letters back and forth.

Disclaimer: Information in this story, such as names, prison names, locations, etc. have been changed to protect personal information. Everything else is true.

Also, keep in mind that all of these letters were hand-written and are a lot smaller on here than I thought they were.

*The Cover of this story is various pictures of my mom during different ages of her life *