When I see photos of younger Charles before our struggles began, I have the urge to go back to a day when he was just a happy, joyous child. There is something so attractive about those days of innocence before his issues took him and our family hostage.
I remember when he showed up in our room at 7:15am in the morning. It was a Sunday and Charles was not yet in a toddler bed and I wondered how he got out of the crib. Richard had somehow helped his brother out and we’d never find out exactly how it … Read more...