I’ve decided to write about my story, piece by piece. I’ll begin with my childhood and work my way up. I’m doing this because my memory is horrible and I’m trying to remember my life; I thought that writing out my story could help.
Growing up, I was a very happy child. I easily kept myself busy and entertained. My mom worked from home, so I spent a lot of time with her. My dad ran his own independent pharmacy. I also spent a lot of time with my dad at his pharmacy. I was happy to spend time with both my parents; I loved being with them. I’m the youngest of three children. The town I grew up in had about only 3,200 people. Everyone knew me because of my parents. My mom never had to tell me ‘no’ until I was 6 years old; I was a really good kid in the beginning. She could bring me to her meetings and appointments, and I would keep myself busy playing with rocks and sticks.
School was a breeze for me. I never spent much time working on school work; all of it was done while I was still at school. I don’t remember studying for tests, but I aced everything. I didn’t start getting in trouble at school until I was in middle school. I stayed busy outside of school. In my spare time, I rode horses, played the piano and several other instruments, and went skiing. I even rode horses competitively for many years and did pretty well. My first horse was named Houdini and my second horse was named Copperfield. I spent most of my free time at the barn. I worked there for a while doing things from mucking stalls, to teaching riding lessons, and helping to run summer camps. I’m used to working; my dad had me and my siblings working at his store on Sunday mornings at the very least. It taught me a lot about responsibilities.
My dad decided to take flying lessons one day. He ended up getting his pilot’s license and the two of us would go flying sometimes to different mountains to go skiing, sometimes just to go flying for the fun of it. Spending time with my dad was always a blast. The two of us were adventure buddies. I was always up for anything.
I also remember holidays with my family. Christmas was at our house. Thanksgiving was always at my aunt’s house. There were usually more than 20 people at these holiday events. My parents taught me that family is always there for each other. We support and love each other unconditionally. My entire life, I always knew I was loved. When I would get in trouble, my mom would say something like “I love you, but I don’t like your actions.” Not once while I was growing up, or even now as an adult, have I ever questioned whether or not I was loved. I had an amazing childhood; I know how lucky I was to have such loving parents and family.
My Side of the Pole 