Spiritual Autobiography - Part 1 - Family

I grew up as the youngest of three in South Portland, Maine. This house was my family home from the time I was born until well after I graduated from college. I was younger than my next sibling by almost ten years, so I watched and learned a lot from them. My sister, the oldest, was a second mother to me. We were not rich by any means, but I never wanted for the basics in life. There were no children my age in the immediate neighborhood, so I learned how to entertain myself. I remember looking forward to times when neighbor’s relatives would visit and I could play with kids my own age. Looking back, I would say I had a normal, happy childhood. There were hiccups in life, of course, but nothing that I recall that shook my world.

Religion was present in the house. Mom was a cradle Catholic and Dad converted to marry her. The cross was hanging in many rooms. Grace was the norm before dinner, but I don’t recall it before any other meal. We did go to Mass every Sunday and on Holy Days. My brother and I were both altar servers. I wanted to play the organ at Mass and did start doing that in Junior High.

My parents were both great. I was closer to my Mom while Dad was the more distant provider. They rarely had to punish me as I learned what not to do from my older siblings. I’ve always had a good relationship with both of my parents. I’ve been able to talk to them about almost anything. Our family was not great about showing emotion, but over the years we have broken down those barriers. We always greet and depart now with a hug. Saying, “I Love You” is common now as well. My mother developed Alzheimer’s several years ago and passed away in July 2010. Dad and I have become good friends during this time. He visits often and we phone on a regular basis.