My parents took me to Disneyland for my seventh birthday. I remember landing, going to the park, and the great first day or two. Then my parents had to go out and take a lot of phone calls. They sounded stressed. They kept telling me nothing happened and everything was fine. Finally we flew home and surprised ourselves! We spent a few extra days visiting a large water park outside our home. I remembered this birthday so fondly that I eventually forgot all the strange things that happened. About 10 years later, my parents finally told me what happened. My uncle, my father’s brother, attempted suicide on my seventh birthday. He shot himself in the abdomen with a rifle. He was poor, on drugs, unemployed, etc. He was frustrated that my dad was living the life he always wanted, so he attempted suicide.

In the end he survived. My parents took me to the water park so we wouldn’t have to go to his house when he was discharged. By not telling me, my parents allowed me to make my birthday my day instead of the day my uncle tried to die. Knowing how a seven-year-old’s brain works, I might think I have something to do with it.