Beginnings

In an effort to really put some time in on writing. I will start with the basic information and background a reader may need in order to understand me a little more.

I was born into a family that had wealth. At least all the signs of it. My father practiced as a physician and we had all the things, big house, several cars, etc. I say I was born into it, because I was just that. I didn’t earn any of it. Just life circumstance. I am the youngest of four children. I am the only girl. Logistically that is me.

My early childhood consisted of staying outside all day, climbing in trees, riding my bike to places I wasn’t supposed to go. I had a few friends my age that lived in my neighborhood and I was always at their houses. I was home the least amount of time possible during the summers and after school. My home felt like a museum and my friends weren’t really welcomed in my home. It was what it was. I had many good times with my friends, I remember them fondly and felt like I was happy.

My parents seemed to like each other and got along from what I saw as a young child. I did not think anything was wrong with my life or my family. Life was as it should be when you are young. Carefree and happy. I was a very happy child. I got along well with everyone and it seemed like in all the photos I was happy. I want to believe I was and so that will be my memory.

My father did work a lot and he made time for the children as much as he could. I cherished the times that I was able to go with him to the hospital and have one on one time with him. I have memories of sitting in his white Volkswagen bug as we drove to the hospital. We would see so many bunnies in the fields on the way to hospital and nothing could beat time alone with my dad. I would wait in the doctors lounge while he did his rounds and eat one and sometimes two of the ice creams in the doctors freezer. The doctors lounge was a huge room with tons of books and it became a place that I could only imagine what was in all these books. My dad is a very smart man and I knew he had to work really hard to be in the place he was. He had a very important job and was respected by many, including me. I loved spending time with him and only have memories of his smile and laugh from this age. He made life fun. He loved me deeply and fully. I knew I could count on my Dad. Life was simple.

My mother was the most beautiful woman I knew. She always had her hair done and was always smiling. She seemed to really love her life. When I was little, she made birthdays so fun, threw big parties for us and we had all the neighbor children over to the party. She liked hosting parties, she loved to cook and was really good at it. She liked the lifestyle of being in a big house and the prestige of my dad being a doctor. The life suited her and she seemed happy. I will never know if she really was but from my young eyes, she was happy. I had no reason to believe I was not loved by both my parents.

Every summer, we went on a trip for a few weeks as a family. One year it was a cruise. We had a good time on the cruise. My 5 year old self got to see things in the world that I have not seen again. I was able to be young and happy and free. I remember dancing in a contest with another two children that I had met. It was a carefree time. One year we did a road trip, when we stayed at hotels or timeshares, I had to sleep with my mom. It brought me closer to her being the only other female in a house of men. I really felt loved and wanted.

Family met laughing and being together. I really loved being part of a big family. I really loved being close to my youngest brother. He was my best friend. He and I had similar sibling friends in the neighborhood and spent time together with them. My brother accepted me and we went on many adventures together. He was my big brother and I felt safe with him. He protected me and made sure I was taken care of. There were many times that life seemed so very scary and he was always right there with me. I knew he loved me.

Most of the time I did not understand or relate to my two older brothers but it was not because they did not care about me. They were into their own things and lives and had their own friends. Other than the normal teasing brothers do, they were good to me and I felt like they had my back. I knew they wouldn’t hurt me and I felt safe with them. They made my fun family whole and it seemed right in my world.

Happy Days, the show was one we all liked and enjoyed watching. We had a small probably black and white tv in our kitchen. My brothers and I would move the chairs in front of the tv and watch Happy Days. We would call out who our character was going to be in the intros of the show. Everyone always wanted to be the “Fonz”. After all, he was the coolest. I always seemed to end up being the girl characters in the show. Something I was not real happy about. But I was sitting around my big brothers and I was part of them, a feeling a little girl really needed and wanted. I felt loved by them. They accepted me and they included me. I was one of them.

Another factor into this time in my life is that up until the age of maybe 5 or 6, we attended church. I remember going to Sunday school and what the classroom and the church looked like. I remember a photo of my brothers and I and we were young and the two older brothers had choir gowns on. We all had big smiles on our faces. I remember church as something that connected my family. I also vividly remember the day we went to this going away party for our pastor as he was going in the mission field. It had a profound impact on me. As once the pastor left the church, my family stopped going to church as well. It changed things in my home. For a long time, I believed that when my family walked away from the church, it fell apart. I still think there is some truth to that.

As I sit and think about these times, my heart is overjoyed and full. I am grateful that I am able to remember such love from my home of origin. Sometimes you really need to dig deep and look for it, and sometimes it just flows out of sitting in the experience and allowing it to flow out of you. Remembering is healing and part of this crazy rollercoaster ride of life. I am ready to share my journey to what brought me here today. It all starts somewhere.