A few days ago, I was at my parent's house
and came across this photo of me in 1987:
As a child, my mom would gather us kids (the ones who were at home anyway)
in the suburban and take us to the lake, where we fed the ducks with old bread.
This is one of my favorite childhood memories, and even as I type this,
I can still smell the fresh air at the lake.
This photo was taken in early spring, and although it was a bit chilly outside,
I remember feeling the sun's warmth on the top of my brown hair.
In my book, I wrote a little about my childhood:
"Growing up as number eight of nine meant I was never alone,
and the greatest gift of those five brothers and three sisters
was how safe I felt, always.
I always had someone to talk to, play with, or borrow clothes from.
They were devoted brothers and sisters--my best friends,
greatest role models, and fiercest protectors."
I can't help but smile when I look at this photo.
I was surrounded by love and siblings and felt safe and content.
I had on my yellow Mickey Mouse sweatshirt and
was wearing my sister Courtney's Keds.
I was truly, truly happy.