A Life Lived Between Two Bookends
Chapters one through twenty-eight were a gift from the universe
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I’m currently sitting in a tiny-home in a small mountain town in British Columbia.
I drove out to the Canadian Rockies a few days ago with one purpose in mind. To be where I was two years ago today.
Now, let me backtrack for a minute, sort of like they do in movies that jump from time-frame to time-frame so often that you have a hard time following.
Just over thirty years ago I was eighteen and pregnant with no clue how on earth I could make the decision I had to make.
I could keep the baby and face a lifetime of uncertainty raising him on my own, or I could give him away to a more capable set of parents. At the time, neither choice seemed like something I could live with.
During my pregnancy my mother and I went on a short getaway. We drove to a small mountain town in the Canadian Rockies to stay with long-time family friends. She thought it would be useful for us to gain some outside perspective on my situation.
That was thirty years ago.
Fast forward to two days ago and I drove out to the same mountain town to visit the same people we’d visited back then. I’m still there as I write this.
At some point during the drive I realized that this journey and the one thirty years ago were like two bookends on a whole life in between.
You see, I did choose to keep my baby and raise him alone and his entire life happened between these two trips.
Now, let me backtrack one more time.
Two years ago I had also driven out to the mountains for a leisurely getaway. It was during Covid times when road trips were the only travel option available.
During that getaway, I received news that could only be rivaled by the life-altering news that I was pregnant.
He was gone.
That little baby boy I’d chosen to keep thirty years ago made his own journey back into the light of the universe at the age of twenty-eight.
The mountains seem to enjoy playing host to the most significant moments of my life.
