I’m an old man now, by any measure: I’ll be 75 in September. But I’m still working full-time. I have a twenty year old whose adoption I finalized 15 months ago. And I reopened my foster care license two months ago for two kids not known to each other; one 15 and the other 18. My oldest three kids are 61, 63, and the oldest, dead now, would be 64 this May. I am an old man, by any measure – it’s true.
But I don’t feel old; I don’t act old; I don’t think old. I live in the present. And in the present, it is time to begin this blog again. Because maybe my words, my stories, my musings will touch someone enough that that someone will decide to give a teen living in foster care with no permanent parent the gift that I was given when I was seventeen: the gift of forever connection to an adult who chose to love me.
For free. Neither Aunt Rita nor Fr. Chris Huntington asked anything of me but respect. Respect for each of them, respect for myself, and respect for every person on earth. They believed that every person is made in the image and likeness of God. After nearly 75 years of my own life, I have seen enough evidence that they were on the money. 100% on the money. That’s why I originally dedicated this blog to their memory. And tonight I renew that dedication.

I don’t know how often I will write, but I will write regularly. I need to reach the people who are able to recognize the inside truth of a teen who has no one; people who then might decide to give that teen a parent, a home, a real life. The people who might decide to choose to love – as Aunt Rita and Fr. Huntington, separately, chose to love me. And thereby gave me this most incredible life. I am, as I expect will become clear going forward, the luckiest man I’ve ever met.
Jack