I thought I had a wonderful childhood. It was filled with smells of warm soup, big family gatherings at every occasion and Star Trek adventures with neighborhood kids. My family was pretty “Leave it to Beaver”. I felt privileged to have been adopted into a family and not just born into it like most kids. I was chosen. I remember that my home was peaceful. My parents seemed supportive of each other, cooperative and I never did hear them raise their voices or quarrel in any way. But it is that silence that would eat us all up in the end.
