My mother blamed me and my brother for my father's death. She wouldn't let us see him in the coffin. I never believed her that he was dead.

Sometimes people just need to be alone. I feel that now; I knew that even as a kid. That's why I went to find him. I packed a hot pink plastic suitcase that had come with clothes and accessories for one of my dolls. I was smart enough to pack underwear, pajamas and a sweatshirt. Someone who knew my mother saw me sitting at the bus station and brought me the mile back home.