When growing up people didn't know me by my real last name. Growing up and still today I am considered a Johnson, which is fine by me. I'm actually a Quinn. I was five when my parents got divorced, and a couple years later is when my mom married a Mr. Johnson. Mr. Johnson treated me like his own son, and his family stories became my family stories. Hunting traditions that were passed down from his father (my step-grandfather) to him became a tradition for me to the present day.
My step-grandfather also played basketball for the air force, and basketball became a tradition in my family. You could say I was adopted into a family narrative. I recently just spoke to my step-grandfather and asked him what he told my step-father Mr. Johnson before he married a woman with four sons. He said to treat those boys like his own, and he did. Before Mr. Johnson was apart of mine and my brothers life, we didn't fish, we didn't play basketball, we didn't hunt, we didn't go boating. We just didn't have family traditions. That has all since changed. I believe that when a family has traditions is when they become tight knit.
In my neighborhood, we are known to take people to the lake. I never did like to take people to the lake because I'm selfish and had always wanted more water time behind the boat. Mr. Johnson has taught us to generously give our time to other people, and that by doing that we show a charity towards other people. I remember a neighbor of ours would always come over and ask to borrow the lawn mower. Mr. Johnson always always let him borrow it. No matter how bad of shape he brought it back to us, Mr. Johnson could never let that get in the way of his charity. I've always remembered that.
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