Autobiography – Chapter one the early years

Chapter One- The Early Years

I was born on Sunday, March 11, 1984. I suppose no one remembers much about these years, but the one thing I do remember is not a happy time in anyone’s life. The death of my father is my one true childhood memory of the times before I entered school of any kind. I remember asking my mom where he was all the time and what happened to dad, and each time I asked she would tear up and try to explain about heaven. My dad died of cancer of the pancreas. He died of doctor’s negligence so please always get a second opinion. This is the first time death visited me, and I was never normal because of it. I am a very emotional person. I would like to thank my mom for the wonderful job she did of raising two girls by herself. She may never know it even though we fight a lot, because I am just like her in stubbornness.

I am lucky to have had a caring family on my mom’s side. My mom’s dad acted like a father to me and I use him as a father figure because as seeing I was only three I never really knew my dad. That was only for a short while because eventually he was taken from me too, but that is for the later part of my story. My Mom always took us to church on Sundays and we (my sister and I) would sit in the pew with grandpa. He would fall asleep during the sermon; we considered it a challenge to keep him awake. On Easter we would gather and my mom’s parent’s house for an Easter egg hunt outside on the premises and our cousins would hide the eggs for us. Those were the carefree days of being an innocent child I think.