Posted May 31, 2012 by
There are stories we tell ourselves about our lives, some of them are true, some of them are kind-of-true. Often the big things end up as myths, fantastically, beautifully, kind-of-true tales that we once lived. They evolve over years, taking on different cadences and tones to suit our ever-evolving personas, as we move through life.
I look at my parents’ lives this way, and much of my own life as well. All of it, this strange kind of fairy tale that has morphed from something once startling and all too-bright, into something softer and more nuanced, layered with realizations and long-uncovered facts that surfaced only much later. Sometimes it’s easy to see the very things that will be come the stories of our lives.
Five years ago this past Sunday I changed the entire course of my life when I switched a flight and, instead of returning home to Los Angeles, stopped in Chicago to meet a guy named Greg Boose. I’ll never forget the feeling that I was altering something big, even if I didn’t quite believe it would ultimately lead me where it has.
Greg took this photo of me that afternoon in Chicago. We spent 16 hours together before I got on a flight back to LA, knowing that my life had irrevocably changed.
The day we met happened to be his mother’s birthday. Greg shares my father’s birthday. The overlapping of life’s big moments never ceases to amaze me.
We would meet on Cape Cod a month after that first encounter in Chicago, knowing we were in love and committed to the thing, even if it meant the ultimate upheaval of everything we thought we knew.
A year later we would be engaged and living together in Chicago, just weeks away from our wedding.
And a year after that I looked like this:
A few days later we became three.
And then one year ago today, the three of us headed west.
And now we wait, for one more myth, one more date, one more person to enter our story.
I’m reading and hosting this event tonight at the Santa Monica Barnes & Noble. You should come! There will be cake!