I have a pretty bad memory. Horrible in fact. Without my phone, I would forget everything- I barely know my husband’s cell phone number by heart. I think this is the driving force behind my love of photography.
I only have bits and pieces of snippets of childhood memories. I originally thought my earliest memory is from being about 6 years old and waiting to take a test at a private school my parents were trying to get me into. However now that I think more about it I remember getting my fingers crushed in the doorway of our house one summer. It was the house we lived in before the home my parents live in now which I would come to know as my childhood home. My dad was outside probably doing yard work or something and the outside door was one of the kinds that automatically close behind you. Clearly, I wasn't paying attention. I should have been.
Okay, so this isn't necessarily my life story, but it’s the point where I remember my life beginning. And that is where my life story would start… right?
I unfortunately do not have what I consider to be an “interesting “life story but it’s my story nonetheless. It was filled with ups and downs but mostly love. I had a great extended family, forming bonds with all 4 of my grandparents until 2005 when my maternal grandmother died. My maternal grandfather didn't last two months without her. I am grateful for what my life story consists of thus far and plan to enjoy “writing” the rest of it.