Chapter 3: Chapter Three: Illinois

We were now living in the heart of the Midwest... my father was a bishop in the Amish church, as was his father before him. My grandfather was getting to old to lead the church which was why we had moved here, so dad could take over for him. Five days after we arrived in November of '04, my grandmother passed away. I remember very little of this experience. I remember the rain and the cold as we stood at the grave site and the sadness that I saw on the faces around me. I remember thinking it odd that my daddy was crying. It was something that my five year old mind couldn't quite grasp. Two weeks after that I turned 6. My brother was 9, and went to school every day. Because the Amish don't use kindergarten or preschool I was still staying at home with my mom and dad. The winter months dragged on and on for me. The best part of every day was my brothers return from school. He was my hero. We did everything together. The farm my father had bought was a 120 acre run down farm. We were living in a shop building that winter as we tried to clear out a wooded area where we wanted to build a house. Before spring though, it was finished and we moved into the new place. It was the first time I experienced having my own room. At first I refused to sleep there. I had always slept with my brother. Looking back now I can see how odd that was. But we had a very close bond. I was 8 before I slept in my own bed. That June, six months after my grandmother had passed, we were called to Kentucky where my grandfather had been staying with family since her passing. This was my first close experience with death. His entire family, children, grandchildren, and great grands, were gathered around his bed when he took his final breath. His passing was peaceful but still a bit confusing for a young mind to grasp. Now another new journey was about to begin. For my father, it was being all alone in running his church. For me, it was school.