My parents' first child, named George after my grandfather, lost his life suddenly to crib death. Their second son, my elder brother, was also named George. We were born five years apart. Due to the tragic loss of their first child, my parents raised George with extreme care and were very overprotective of him, which ultimately left me more freedom to grow and become an independent thinker. I didn't ask my parents how things were done. I tried to figure it out on my own, a trait that remains in my blood to this day.
I remember an episode when I was 3 years old. I'll never forget it. It's like it was yesterday. I was sitting on the floor of my bedroom and my mother looked in and said, "What are you doing?" "I'm tying my shoelaces," I replied. She said, "You don't know how to tie your shoelaces." I then told her, "I'm going to figure it out." And somehow, I did.
