When I was two, I had an accident, lost my vision completely, and was in a coma for part of a year. My earliest memories start around six. We lived in Frankfort, Kentucky with my grandmother Sherry, her husband, and his sister, Lisa, who has been like a second mom to me for most of my life. When Mom was at work, my sister Kaylee and I would go to Aunt Lisa’s house where she lived with her parents, Jewel and Frederick. It got to the point where we loved staying over there so much that we’d stay over there on weeknights too. We got so used to being at their house that when my mom started having problems—whatever problems she was having— we just moved in with them, and we’ve stayed there ever since. Mom took some time to herself, went out with her friends a lot. She knew that there were people to take care of us, and after a while, she stopped coming home at night and visited us less and less at my aunt’s house. One day, she stopped visiting us altogether. She never told us where she was going, and it took her years to come back. I was young, and I was a mommy's girl. I was devastated.

She’d call collect sometimes, and the operator would say, “ Do you accept the charges from...,” and then I would hear my mom’s voice say her name, “ Anna.” When we talked, we had normal conversations. We didn’t talk about why she wasn’t around, why she had to leave, or why Kaylee and I couldn’t go with her wherever she went. When I heard her soft voice on the phone, it broke my heart. I would either break down crying on the phone with her, or wait till I was alone in my room. Sometimes I would accidentally hit the button on the phone and it would hang up. Then I wouldn’t talk to her again for a long time.

Not being able to talk with and see my mother on a daily basis was so hard. I always have and always will be soft-hearted when it comes to my mother. Thoughts of her leaving me forever kept me up at night, and I remember crying myself to sleep when I had these thoughts. No one should have to live their lives without their mother. She was the reason why I cried, the reason why I smiled, the reasoning behind those countless days I lay in bed wondering about my future. I don’t know where she was. I just know that she was very far away.

[Three pictures: (1) Portrait of Kianna as a toddler. (2) Kianna and friends standing with an elephant statue at the zoo. (3)Young Kianna, approximately seven years old, reading braille.]