The start of a family- Kyle Sutton

The Birth of a Family- Kyle Sutton

I come from a family of immigrants, now I'm not going to romanticize any traumatic journey they had in their homeland, or som e struggle to get here, both my parents are from Canada. My mother and father met in a bar in Lower Sackville called the pub. Believe it or not, my dad slid in with a devilishly smooth pick up line, "I don't make six digits I'm not going to lie, but I would love to have your seven." DISCLAIMER: In Canada you don't need area codes because there aren't as many people. Even though this was clever it flew directly over my moms head. She responded, "I'm not a millionaire."
"No, haha, my name is Jeff, I was asking for your phone number."
"Oh, haha, well, I'd right it down for you if you had a pen."
This was the birthplace of my dad's ritual favorite pen, he had one in his pocket to give her so she could right her digits on his hand. Now he always carries one around and refuses any pen he is offered by anyone. Cute? Maybe at first glance until he continues over and over to point out he doesn't need the waitresses pen. He doesn't want it. He has is own.
The two talked together for hours that night. The topics of conversation is a hot dispute. My dad said he asked her a bunch of questions and that lead to him realizing that he played baseball against my mom's brother, also named Jeff. My mom doesn't remember, but she is certain that it wasn't about that. This lead to two traditions. One, my mom's classic, "I don't know what is right. But I know you are wrong." Second, the two Jeff conundrum. At all family gatherings there would now be two closely related. This was solved simply by my new Aunt Anita, calling Jeff Sutton (my dad) "Big Jeff," and Jeff Murphy, (my uncle) "Jeff."
My dad eventually was taken to meet my mom's parents. Him and his sly story telling ability and charisma (which was passed down to me, if I do say so myself) was able to sweep my now late grandmother off her feet. This was enough to get their blessing and accept him into the family. Although I theorize that this was an executive decision made by Nana, and my Grandfather, wasn't to happy about it. This lead to another tradition, the power struggle between my dad and grandpa.
My parents dated throughout college, my dad went to school in the states, my mom in Canada. This lead to both of them migrating often to keep the relationship alive. My mom had decided to call it and pack it in with her college experience. However my dad continued to pursue his education. My dad bounced around schools in New Jersey for 8 years until he got his MBA. He then had a job opportunity and moved to Miami. My parents lived in Miami, despite hearing the story several times it is still fuzzy. Before they were married they lived together all over the place, Miami, Toronto, Halifax again (where they got married) and finally settled back down into Morristown, New Jersey. This lead to the tradition of the always changing story of what exactly my parents did before I was born. The timeline is also fuzzy.
I was born when my mom was 31 and my dad was 33. I don't know their age when they met, or how far along they were in college, but I know they met before either went to college, but in a bar, so they must have both been over 19. My dad then did 8 years of college which would make him 29 when he was done. This leaves 4 years of them moving to four different places and making the decision to have their best tradition so far, ya boi, me.
While the story is questionable in a few places, it still ended in an undeniably happy ending, a beautiful family of a big strong man, a beautiful wife, and a darling young boy... until December 3, 2006. The birth of my baby sister, Katie. Then all hell broke lose.