My father, was a great man. You could say he was a hero. But he suffered, despite all of his suffering, he remained resilient. My fatter was the strongest person I knew, still is.

Paul Gonzalez, was born on July 8th 1774. He was born to my grandparents Irma Gonzalez, and Ramon Gonzalez. He grew up in a poor family, but he never complained about not having as much as the other kids. He was the tallest out of his two brothers and was usually found intimidating. despite his appearance, he was the sweetest person you would ever learn to know. When he was in high school, he met my mother Deborah Shears. They fell in love and eventually, she got pregnant with my brother Stephen. During her pregnancy, my father left to the army. And when he arrived, he was greeted by his son and wife. Two years passed and they were expecting another child, my sister Asia Marie. My father was stationed in Fort Polk Louisiana. And while my mother was there to visit, my sister was born. He soon left and joined my mother in Ohio where they stayed as a family, it was picture perfect. But things went downhill from there. Four years passed and my mother was pregnant again, this time with me. When I was only 1 year old, they divorced. My father got split custody and would see us on weekends and sometimes weeks at a time. I always preferred my father over my mother. And I believe it is obvious why.

To be continued...
(the picture is of the grave only due to the rules of the cemetery not allowing pictures with the graves)