Thursday, July 29, 2010


A few weeks ago I decided I should write my own story. Since I only remember a few small things from my very young childhood, most of that part of my life will not be written about. I know that I was born on my due date Aug 25. I was 9 ½ lbs, and long. I was born in Germany at a military hospital. My dad was on training missions and hitched a ride on a helicopter to come home when the news was brought to him. My Grandma Free was visiting from Provo, UT. I can imagine that I was a perfect baby. My mom must have been a loving and grateful woman, because when I think of my early childhood, I remember the warmth of her love, and her smiling face.
My first real memory is of a birthday when I turned 4. I had the most wonderful birthday cake. It was shaped like a butterfly, double layered. My mom always put thought, artistry, and whimsy into our birthday cakes. She used colored pipe cleaners for the antennas. My dad had just purchased a video camera. He opted to get a Beta camera instead of the more popular VHS camera because Beta had better quality film. Since it was the more expensive option, Beta wasn’t loved by consumers and it was hard to find anything Beta soon after that. In any case, we have video in Beta capturing the birthday cake and me dancing on the front porch. I remember my mom having to coax me to keep moving, because “this was the kind of camera you could make movies with”. My parents doting on me with their new camera, the beautiful and thoughtful birthday cake, and my little sister Charlotte dancing with me has made this memory strong and detailed. Whenever I think of it, I feel loved.