I was adopted into a JW family in southern California. My birth mother gave me up after 6 months (The terms Mom & Dad refer to my adoptive/real parents). She gave me up due to the fact that she already had a three year old boy, and back in the late sixties it was not as socially acceptable to be a single mother. I was the product of her affair with a married man.
My earliest memories were of meetings and model trains. My dad got into model trains when I was about 4, and I remember being able to help him run the train. It was one of the few non-JW memories I have of my dad. He already was an elder when I cam into the picture. He already had a reputation as an "Organization Man." Yet, those that know him, know him as kind-hearted, and mild. In fact I only say my father lose his temper twice. My mother was the quintessential Elder's wife. Quiet, homemaker, yet never used her relationship with my dad to pry into others' lives. From everything I have read during my time here, they seem to be the exception and not the rule.
I was not abused, in any way, though I was spanked. I was indulged as a child. Some would call it spoiled, but they don't know the whole story. My mom lost her reproductive system after a bout with rhuematic fever, sometime after they got married (which was around 1955). My dad seemed to accept the fact he would be childless, however someone, I don't know who, suggested they look into adoption. They had a boy & a girl before they got me. Evidently, they fell in love with me at first sight.
OK, I have to break, as emotions are coming up.