Once upon a time, a boy and a girl lived 6 houses down from each other on a street named Jumilla Avenue. The girl was the middle of 3 sisters; the boy was one of 6 brothers and one sister. These kids grew up together, along with the entire block, and experienced love, loss, triumph, and failure. This little girl was very popular and was the object of many boys’ affections, and grew into a young woman.
There was one boy in particular who turned out to be a special one. He was an altar boy and attended catholic school. Although at times he seemed a bit goofy with his large hands, this boy grew into a fine young man who captured the young woman’s heart soon after she was in a terrible motorcycle crash. As the story goes, they fell in love, were married, and had a beautiful son and daughter.
In case you couldn’t tell, this is the (very much) abridged version of how my mother and father met and I came to be. They brought together 2 families, The Dunns and The Hamiks, and as I listened to stories of their mischief this past weekend I gained insight into the people they were, and still are. I’m sure everyone believes their family is slightly crazy–they wouldn’t be our family if they weren’t. But I want to truly thank my family from the bottom of my heart. I couldn’t have done it without you!
If there is one thing I have learned this weekend is that no matter how crazy your family may seem (at times), you’ve got to love them because they are all you’ve got.
P.S. Will do a weekend recap mañana.