My whole life I’ve felt pretty blessed. I was raised by two strong, independently thinking, sometimes stubborn parents who protected me from the harms of the world they could control. A roof over my head, food in my belly, good schools and support in what I wanted to do with my life, they were there for me. They were not perfect, but I believe they did their best. Whatever grudges I held as a young adult have faded now; what’s the point in being bitter. From childhood to the day Julie and I loaded the U-Haul and drove to Los Angeles, they were my shelter, that’s for sure. To be blunt, I wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t decided to have a child number three 39 years ago.
While my mom and dad gave me my start, I wouldn’t be who I am now if it weren’t for one person: Julie. From the moment I first kissed her to this point in time, as we’re raising two children and facing many of the same struggles so many other people do, we continue to grow together, loving, laughing, sometimes fighting, sometimes hurting each other, but always standing side by side through the good and bad. She is my foundation; she is my shelter.
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