As far as beginnings go, mine is is pretty inglorious. In fact, I do not exactly remember every event sequence for sequence but I will certainly give it a shot. Most of this when it comes to my early years (pre-kindergarten, etc) are things that I have learned from my parents and other family members, so if anyone who is in the know notices some things out of sequence, you know why.
I was born on a almost-summer day on June 12th 1989 in a medium sized college town known as Eugene, Oregon. According to what I remember my mom telling me, I was born sometime around 11 in the morning, as for how long she was in labor,I honestly have no idea because that is not really information I ever asked for.
A little about my parents…My moms name was Kelly and my dad was Lon. My parents dated in high school (where they met) and considering the 9 month pregnancy, that would mean my mom became pregnant with me about a year after she graduated high school (and a month after her 19th birthday).
My Dad, Lon was a semi-truck driver, something he would do in varying forms for a long time. If I had to describe my Dads personality I would describe him as fairly easy going but with a slightly strict and a little intimidating side. He was the kind of person that you really didn’t want to disappoint. As for the strict part, he was not strict in a traditional sense, because he never gave me any hard punishment (no spankings, nothing verbal or anything like that) but he expected the best from me and for the most part I wanted to show it to him. I think my Dad tried hard to not be like his own father, and to be the kind of Dad he wanted to be, not the one he grew up with. My dad has two siblings, one brother, Alan and a sister Franki. From what I remember, my Dad grew up in Reedsport, Oregon and moved to Eugene in high school.
Now a little about my Mom, Kelly. My mom was kinda hot-headed. She had a temper and a mouth that was legendary, but never with me or my brother. I can never remember her having any career aspirations (or never mentioned to me) but she was perfectly happy working retail jobs and being a mom. My mom hardly ever punished me, even when I was legitimately bad, she would never spank me or do anything like that. Sure I was grounded and other things like it but never anything too intense. My mom had three siblings, two sisters, Cathy and Karie and a brother, Scott.. Mom grew up in Eugene as well..so I guess Eugene is in the family
The first few years of my life were pretty unremarkable, Very few significant events and nothing too out of the ordinary except for one incident when I was two.
When you are two years old, most kids can be sort of pesky, especially to teenage girls. I was at my Step-Grandma Bevs house being watched by her while my parents were at work. I imagine I was being annoying to my Aunt Franki and trying to get into her room and she did not want me in there. At one point she shut (slammed?) the door, but what she didnt know was that my left index finger happened to be in the door and..well the door sliced right through it and knocked it clean off! Luckily I was not maimed as Bev managed to get the severed digit on ice and whisk me to the hospital, still kicking and screaming the whole time. The hospital managed to reattach my finger and in fact I am typing with it now, and it has color and a growing nail (albeit the nail grows in weird) and feeling in it! 23 years later, I still joke around with my Aunt and call her “the finger cutter”
I was an only child for a short while because about 2 years and 1 1/2 months after I was born, my brother, Brandon was born. I cant remember if I was excited to be a big brother, though as most kids usually are I imagine I was.
Because both of my parents worked during my first few years, I was babysitted a lot when I was young. Though I was at Bevs during my finger severing, a lot of the time I was at my Great-Grandma Faulhabers house, who Brandon and I affectionately referred to as “Grandma Willie” as she had a dog named Willie and I guess as kids you make up your own things to call people. Often joining Brandon and I at “Grandma Willies” was our cousin, Matt. Matt was 4 months older than me and my Aunt Cathys son. Brandon, Matt and I grew up together and we were all pretty close. We remained close to our cousins when Matts brother, Aaron was born several years later (though admittedly Brandon was closer to Aaron than I) and even when a few years after that our cousin and Matt and Aarons sister, Melissa was born. Matt, Aaron and Melissa were all our Aunt Cathys kids and we were all pretty close. My Aunt Karie and Uncle Scott had kids too but they both lived kinda far away back then and we never got to know their kids like we did Cathys.
When Brandon and I were young, we moved around a lot. We lived in various places around Eugene and Springfield (the adjacent city to Eugene) and we also lived in Junction City, Oregon, Lewiston, Idaho and a place called Boring, Oregon (and it was exactly as the name implied). When you are that young, you dont really care so much about all the moving, as we didnt go to school yet and didnt exactly have a group of friends yet, but I remember we missed going to Grandma Willies and hanging out with our cousins. For the most part, we were all a big, happy family, as far as my brother and I knew..but there was trouble brewing underneath the surface…
As A writer, I am constantly looking for new methods of communicating the written word. In my journals and in the bowels of my computer I have many different things that I have written. Countless memoirs and musings; half written short stories;A 200 page fantasy novel that I still have not finished;several free form poems, soliloquies and haikus . One of the items im most proud of is my handwritten 130 page autobiography, or as I call of it “My Life (At least what I remember of it).
Why would someone like me write my own biography? It was a means of self discovery. A way for me to look back at my life and reflect on some of the choices that I have made, and the events that have shaped me to be the way that I am now.
Originally, I only wrote it for me. I told myself “I might be writing this, but I dont really need to share it with anyone”. But I realized that the beauty of the written (or in this case the typed word) is the ability to share it with others. So I decided yesterday that I will use the power of the internet and my blog to publish one chapter of it a day.
I have about thirty chapters, so over the course of the next few months, I will publish one chapter at a time. As for the frequency, I am already pretty infrequent with posting on my blog anyway…besides, I dont think very many people read this anyway…
Contained in these pages is a factual account of my life from my early years all the way to my 19th year when I graduated high school. The people and events contained in these pages are all real and in no way are made up. As for complete accuracy, I cannot guarantee that I remember every event, as I am not extremely good with remembering things from my far past. The meaty part of this story will begin around when I was in 5th grade, when I determined that my life went from strait and narrow to convoluted and different than your normal child.
I will do my best to not reveal any information that I deem the public should not be informed about with other people, but full disclosure with events in my own life (though I can think of some people that would have it coming). As for any family or people that are very much a part of this story that might be reading, you might learn a thing or two about me, but if anything I do puts you in a bad light I do apologise but many of these events are many years in the past and understand that my feelings at that time might not be something you like to read but if you are still in my life right now, then im over it .
As for my less (or not at all) involved readers (if there are any) thanks for reading and feel free to post comments or questions but understand that I will not reveal any information about other people. Have a fantastic day and happy reading!
“That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you’re not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald