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| Top L-R: Natalie, Mom, Dave, Drew, Dad, Mel. Mid L-R: Rachel, Sarah, Meg Bottom: Hannah |
Supposedly, or so my family says, I was a drag the first six months of my life. A bore to my boisterous sisters and brothers. I didn't move, didn't smile, didn't cry. Just sat there with a frizzy mop of curls and a blank expression on my face. Must have been a newborn funky phase.
I swear, there wasn't anything wrong with me. I was, and still am, just stubborn. I do things when I'm ready to do them, and I just wasn't ready for the world. I needed time. What can I say, that's how I am, I like to observe and understand before I make important decisions. Don't believe me? Then let's go get ice cream, it'll take hours. But I guess after about six months of deep observation something in the world tickled my fancy, and I came alive. A weird, competitive, prone to spazzing, delight of a girl.
My family. There is a lot to say about them. Some good, some bad, some ugly. My seven siblings and I grew up on meat, potatoes, whole milk, and competition. We fought for our survival - food, clothes, attention - you name it, we found a reason to fight over it. I always won. Or so I thought. David, Natalie, Andrew, Sarah, Meghan, Hannah and Melanie probably thought the same thing. In our own minds, we were always winners. Come to think of it, maybe that's why we survived.
The big oak dining room table and the backyard - that's where I grew up. As a kid, I needed two things - to eat and to play. I love sports. All of them. I never would have left Berlin, New Jersey, and that one bathroom green house if it wasn't for sports. They were my vehicle long before I could drive.
Us Dawson girls, we got lucky with the whole field hockey gig. The neighbors were moving to Florida, and gave us their 16 year old, undying rabbit, Zoe, and their old hockey sticks. The rabbit died. And after a few million awkward glances and murmurs of "What the fungol are these things," we picked up the sticks, and never put them down. Here is the truth. We aren't athletic. We are competitive and stubborn. That's why hockey worked out for us. We found the right sport at the right time. And the right people gave Natalie, and us, a chance to make a name for ourselves. So we did.
Honestly, I still wish I had chosen basketball. But what can I say, life happens. And I am thankful that it did because hockey took me to school - Eastern High School and the University of North Carolina. Then it whirled me around the globe. Now, a few years in Holland, two Olympics, and a bazillion stamps in my passport later, I have finally decided, or rather accepted that I love hockey.
But there's a lot more to me, and my family, than field hockey. Important things to know, like how I take my coffee - black or with cream, (depending on my mood (and the coffee)). And just incase you get it at Starbucks, please load up with a generous sprinkle of vanilla powder.
I like my coffee paired with a pen. I like to write. Words amaze me - not only do they captivate meaning and mood, but they inspire emotion and drive action. All we have to do is string 'em together with intention. Maybe that's the art of words. The intention behind them.
So here, I'll give it to you square even though the journey is bound to be round, here's my intention. I want to explore. The world, myself, learning, my family, pretty much life. I want to ask questions. And adventure through their answers. This blog is my adventure. Just part of the crazy, chaotic journey.
For More Words on my Family, follow these links:
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