Comics have been a part of my life since I was about 5. Shortly after turning 5 I fell and broke my arm (fractured at 3 but they wanted it to not interfere with any growth so no action). When they x-rayed it was realized that I had a bone cyst and would need surgery to resolve this. I went to Children's Hospital in Boston to have a bone graft done where I met another paitient. He was about 7 or 8 and had just lost most of a leg while trying to ride on the back of an 18 wheeler. I remember meeting him and seeing him in bed surrounded by comics. Needeless to say, my parents bought me a few and the rest was history.
I have many other "key" moments throughout the years but one I don't remember came up just the other day with my mom (who is 95 and sharp as a tack). I was not an easy child and even worse as a teen. When I was 7 I really wanted a comic book. No idea what one but I was being a brat, having a meltdown or whatever while my Mom was dropping my Dad off at the airport. Not getting what I wanted, I took off into the drop off areas at Logan airport weaving through traffic heading for the exit ramp. Cut to mom chasing me down before I get run over and losing her on me. She was sharing how mad she was that day and how scared she was that I was going to get hit by a car. All over a comic... Both my parents always supported the hobby over the years regardless of these type of incidents and she also shared that if I disappeared in a store, she knew right where to find me.
As an aside, the bone graft was from cadaver bone. For years I would chase my younger sister around telling her I had a ghost arm while making ghost noises.