If 13 counts as “early life,” then one thing that really sticks out is my dad talking to me about death. My beloved paternal Grandpa died, and I was 100% devastated. I was laying in bed sobbing after hearing the news, and my dad came in and hand a long talk with me. I don’t remember much of what he said, but I do remember him telling me Grandpa must be so happy to see Grandma (who died 4ish years earlier) again. I had this vision of him seeing her for the first time in so long, and felt totally comforted. I haven’t been afraid or weird about death since. I don’t think I actually believe what he said literally anymore, it was just a very, very comforting thing that has stuck with me. Also, my mom has always told me how important it is to enjoy your own company. Being able to entertain myself has gotten me through some rough patches. I’m my own favorite friend.