I, Tashua Nicole Lewis,
was born on Monday July 22, 1991 in Mount Holly, Burlington, New Jersey to
Kelly Kay Kleinbeck and Gerald “Gene” Eugene Lewis. My father was in Navy and
many of my early years were spent traveling. This was long before I can
remember, but I know from family videos and stories that my mother and I lived
with my grandparents for some time while my dad was away. After my dad got out
of the Navy, my family moved to Haskell, Arkansas where his parent’s lived. We
lived there only until halfway through my Kindergarten year, but there are few
memories I have.
On my first day of
Kindergarten, we were assigned to cut a design out of paper. I remember that
the girl next to me was cutting her paper the wrong way and I was very mad that
she wasn't following directions. I decided to put my hand on her paper so she
could not cut anymore. Instead, she just cut through my finger. I was so upset
that the school nurse had to call my mother to take me home.
Although this is a
simple story, I think it shows a great deal about my personality. I do not like
when rules are broken. I have always understood that rules were there for a
reason and that they should be followed. My sister, Jessica Lynn Lewis, was
born on April 5, 1992. As we were growing up, Jessica and I loved to color. We
were quite different though, I always had to color in the lines and to use the
exact colors that things were in real life. My sister preferred to color things
as she liked. Grass could be colored purple and people faces green. This always
bothered me and I frequently argued with my sister about how coloring should be
done.
We moved from Arkansas
to Richmond, Missouri where I finished out my Kindergarten year. When we first
moved to Missouri, we lived with my mother’s parents while my parents renovated
an old house they bought. It is here that I have one of my most dear memories
of my parents. One evening as we were preparing for bed, my little sister and I
crawled into bed with my parents. We cuddled and laughed and my parents seemed
very happy. Although this is a simple memory, it is one of the few where I can
remember seeing my mom and dad happy together.
It wasn't long after we
moved into our new house that I realized my parents were not as happy as I had
thought. In general, my mom and dad were good about keeping their fights away
from my sister and me, but you can only hide so much unhappiness before it
spills out into other aspects of life. I was old enough to understand what
divorce was, but too young to remember many of the grueling details,
thankfully. I do remember how heartbroken my mom was and how strange it was to
see my dad with another woman, even if she was really nice.
After my parents got
divorced, my new step mom started taking my sister and me to The Church of Jesus
Christ of Latter-Day Saints. We only went when we were at my dad’s house which
was every other week. Soon I asked my mom to take us as well. Since she was
actually a baptized, in-active member of this church she agreed and we started
going to church. My dad and step mother did not continue going to church. On
July 31st, 2000 I was baptized. I was nine years old.
Shortly after this, my
dad and step mom moved to Arkansas and my mom got remarried. My sister and I
lived with my mom, but we would spend six weeks of the summer with my dad. It
was fun to spend the summers with my dad because my cousins lived close and I liked
to play with them. I didn’t really like that we were away from my mom and it
was hard to not see her for so long. One summer my dad had moved to Wisconsin
and we visited him there. This is the summer that I have many memories from
because my cousins also got to come and visit for the summer. On the way to
Wisconsin, my dad made a sudden stop on the side of the rode. He had accidently
hit a raccoon. As he pulled off, he noticed he had killed the raccoon, but that
it had a baby that was left motherless. He picked it up and we took it home
with the intention to take it to the wildlife facility the next day. When we
got there my step mom got out a bottle and some milk to feed the baby raccoon.
The next day everyone had fallen in love with it and Minnie, as we came to call
her, became part of the family. During this summer we spent a lot of time at
the beach, which was walking distance from my dad’s house.
When I was twelve I
made the decision that I did not want to spend all of the summer with my dad.
It was hard because I know it hurt his feeling, but there were two reasons that
I decided this. One which was deeply rooted from what happened the summer we
lived in Wisconsin. It was a very rainy day and we were playing in the detached
garage on the Sega gaming system. We decided to go inside to do something else,
but my sister left her doll in the garage. She went back to get it and I went
with her since she was little. As she was trying to get it, she slipped and
sliced her leg open on a metal chair in the garage. She was in a lot of pain
and the cut was very deep. My step mom looked at it, cleaned it, and gave her a
Band-Aid. She should have been taken to get stitches and even though it was not
a big deal, my young mind remembered this and believed it meant that my sister wouldn't be taken care of there. I have always been so protective of my sister
and this led to be very influential. The second thing that led me to choose not
to spend the summer with him was that I wanted to spend it where all of my
friends lived.
My mom did not stay
married to her second husband for long because he had a liking for bars and
prostitutes. When I was twelve my mom remarried and we moved to Olathe, Kansas.
It was really hard for me to accept that I was not going to see my old friends
again and knowing that I would have a hard time meeting new friends. We moved
halfway through my seventh grade year and it was hard for me to transition to a
city school. The curriculum was much more advanced than the tiny district I was
in prior. I had to work very hard to keep up with what the other students were
already used to.
It was during my
seventh grade homeroom class that I was first bullied. A tall, strong girl
called me “Scraggley” every day because she didn't think I brush my hair. It
was really hard for me to not get mad and to just laugh it off. Some people
truly don’t understand the pain words can have on other people. Though it was
hard to adjust, I found that I really enjoyed my new school. I made only one
friend that year and she was a pathological liar. After leaving a shirt at her
house, I saw her wearing the same one. I asked her if it were mine and she
refused to give me the shirt back because she believed that she really had one
like it.
That summer I had the
blessing to go to Girl’s Camp for church. It was here that I met and got to
spend lots of time with a girl in my ward and it is here that our friendship
started. I truly cherish the blessing it is to be her friend and I will forever
be grateful for the chance we had to get to know each other at camp. Before
Girl’s Camp we were natural enemies. We both had the same friend as our “best
friend.” It just so happened that both of us had the same girl that we
considered our best friend. The second day of Girl’s Camp she hurt herself and
had to be sent home. Before going home she asked me to decorate the other girl’s
bunk bed for her birthday which would be during Girl’s Camp. Doing this was the
stepping stone towards a great friendship. I decided I would do what was asked
and helped decorate the main room and I got to know her pretty well throughout
the rest of camp.
Eventually... I got married and had a son! :D