I was born on April 16th, 1976.71Please respect copyright.PENANAMpl12zbYVD
That much I know for sure.
The rest? The early years? That’s mostly secondhand. Stories passed down from family who lived it while I was still too young to understand. What I do know is this: when I was three years old, everything changed.
That was the year my parents found out I was visually impaired.
My mother—bless her—struggled with that. She didn’t think she had what it took to raise a blind child. Maybe it scared her. Maybe it overwhelmed her. I don’t hold it against her.
She and my father split up not long after. And from then on, I lived with my dad.
It’s strange to think about it now—how the course of a person’s life can bend before they even know how to spell their name. But even then, even in that moment I don’t remember... God was already writing my story.71Please respect copyright.PENANAJNEbBg7Fsc
71Please respect copyright.PENANAdTZszHZtyP
My dad was a Marine.71Please respect copyright.PENANASC5DLB5qLl
And that meant he was gone a lot—months at a time. Long stretches where I wouldn’t see him at all.71Please respect copyright.PENANA4ECeFfClAh
Duty first. Country first. Me... somewhere down the list.
Later that same year, he got arrested.71Please respect copyright.PENANA13rni9ELDz
Selling cocaine while in the service.71Please respect copyright.PENANAQ15ylrkU3S
Yeah. That happened.
He tried to use me as his get-out-of-jail-free card—told the courts he couldn’t go to prison because he had a blind son to take care of.71Please respect copyright.PENANAidg7nBeFAd
As if he had been doing that in the first place.71Please respect copyright.PENANAcJa0mmk6sv
It didn’t work.
While all that was happening, I was stuck. Literally.71Please respect copyright.PENANAZhuxaVOvqv
Stuck in a playpen, day after day. The people he left me with weren’t real caregivers. Not nannies. Not relatives. Just folks meant to watch me while he was gone.71Please respect copyright.PENANA0HEeNQB3tR
But they didn’t raise me. They parked me.
I didn’t even walk until I was four.
That’s not the kind of thing most people admit out loud. But I’m not writing this to impress anyone. I’m writing this because it’s true.71Please respect copyright.PENANAk8vbqK5joJ
And the truth is: from the very start, life was uphill.
But God...71Please respect copyright.PENANAqOymGRwIbR
He was already climbing it with me.
71Please respect copyright.PENANAiuNmq4tXfV