I found my parents the other day.
They were at my in-laws'. And they've been there for years.
This is where the story gets complicated. My father died in 1985, my mother in 1993.
But my in-laws were sorting old snapshots when one caught my eye.
On the back page of a lime-green 1960s album, two girls looked up from a Stock Show candid pic.
I recognized a sister-in-law, Cathryn Seymour Dorsey.
But the guy in the background looked familiar.
Those horn-rimmed glasses -- and big ears -- it looked a little bit like Bud Kennedy, the former Bray (Okla.) Donkeys basketball player who moved to Fort Worth after cooking battlefield meals with the 45th Infantry Division in World War II, then worked in a bag-and-box factory and, in 1955, wrote a $600 check to adopt a newborn boy.
No way, I thought.
I didn't even say anything.
Finally, I said: "Huh. This guy over here sort of looks like my father."
Then I saw the woman in the background shuffling past the Will Rogers Coliseum door.
She looked even more like Liona B. Kennedy, the Virginia mountain girl who moved to Fort Worth after World War II, then worked stitching saddles in the Stockyards while she tracked down a certain Army mess cook.
I took a deep breath.
"And," I said -- "this might be my mother."
Bea Watson started piecing together what she knew about her daughter's photo.
Cathy Seymour was at the Stock Show with a friend, Margo Kyger. They bought the photo from a photographer.
It had been in the family album since that day about 1964.
Then I saw the shoes.
Behind Cathy, a child in a hooded coat and jeans is walking in suede Hush Puppies.
Everybody at South Hi Mount Elementary teased me about my shoes.
I've written about Bud and Liona Kennedy before, but not for years.
They adopted me, but they're the only parents I've ever known.
They had been married 10 years when they bought a newborn boy advertised for adoption in a Star-Telegram classified ad.
(We always say classified ads get results.)
We buried my mother in 1993, late on a snowy afternoon two days before Christmas.
They never met Shelly Seymour or my in-laws.
Yet our photo has been in their album nearly 50 years.
That makes this a real family Christmas.
Bud Kennedy's column appears Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays. 817-390-7538