![]() ![]() He had a daughter later in life, bringing the number of Dad’s siblings to seven. It almost seems like a genetic trait, this strange brand of anxiety and quiet intensity. you can feel how much he loves you, but he probably won’t ever say it. There are some quiet men in my family but none as quiet as Grandpa Jerry. He’s got a father, too, but he and my grandmother divorced very young, and like many of the men on the Carlile side very rarely speaks a word. He’s one of six siblings raised dirt-poor on a dirt floor by a single mom in south Seattle. ![]() My dad is very intelligent and intense, with a sick sense of humor. My mother was a hostess and my father was a breakfast prep cook. My life really starts here.īefore all that, though, my parents met at the Red Lion Hotel. I’m the first born into my family and the first grandchild on both sides, contributing to my inflated sense of self-importance and burden of perceived responsibility. We were living in Burien, Washington, in a single-wide trailer near the Sea-Tac Airport. I contracted meningococcal meningitis at age four. Everyone told me that if I didn’t keep my hands out of my mouth, I’d get sick. I started biting my nails at three years old. ![]() MENINGITIS AND THE EARLY EDUCATION OF AN EMPATH ![]()
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