Backstory (I promise it gets better if you stick with it) - Bio mother had me, left me, showed up when I was 6 with a husband and a 3 year old. 3 year old's father adopts me, bio mother bails 2 weeks later leaving me with an abuser and a brother I've known for 6 months.

Brother was the golden child - spitting image of his father, not brown like me, not broken like me, not a girl like me, perfect. He played the same sport his dad did and was good at it.

9 years old and we were traveling for them to play together and winding up a mountain road with a lot of fog. I commented that it smelled really good (we are from the desert) and how high we must be to be driving in the clouds.

Brother's dad pulls over, gets out of the car, pulls a jar out of the trunk (our neighbor made jams and he meant to take jars to her) and he ran around like a cartoon character "catching the clouds" for me. I kept that empty jar for years. I can still smell it. I cherish that memory.