The Stuff of Myths
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!
A Room of One’s Own (Finding My Voice in the Midst of Parenthood)
The Life I’m Actually Living
Little Life LessonsFiled under: Being Present by Claire Bidwell Smith
9 Comments
I love change of plans; i met my husband because I flunked the math portion of the C-Best )(Teacher’s exam) and had to go back to being a legal secretary -a fate worse than death; i had to move, and i met him right away; we married 2 1/2 months later; our kids, both sides, are wonderful, and we’ve been married over 25 years! hugs and best wishes
Comment by Esther Bradley-DeTally on May 31, 2012 at 12:49 pm
This is so beautiful, Claire. I understand the perspective of it perfectly. Life is truly a delicious cocktail of myths and stories, for sure. I’m excited to see what happens in yours next, and in mine. (Remember, we’re shooting for the 15th!) xoxo
Comment by Ron Stempkowski on May 31, 2012 at 1:27 pm
Is there a “like” button for this post?!
Comment by Angela on May 31, 2012 at 1:39 pm
I met my husband under the same circumstances – couldn’t afford to go home for a wedding, then changed my mind at the last minute. we were seated next to one another at the wedding dinner. 8 months later we were married. 9 years later we’re finally trying for baby #1.
love how fates work out!
Comment by jen on May 31, 2012 at 4:42 pm
Just love the story of how you two met! You deserve all the happiness in the world. Good luck with baby #2!
Comment by Karen on May 31, 2012 at 5:42 pm
So beautifully written, Claire. These stories will be so very meaningful to Vera and your new baby as they grow up, since it is their beginnings. I remember one of my sons asking once what would have happened if both of us hadn’t decided to move to Texas. “I wouldn’t exist!” he exclaimed, flabbergasted.
What beautiful, complicated and important shifts we all experience, from the small to plate tectonics. Thanks for sharing yours with all of us.
Looking forward to news of your newest little shift! Blessings to all of you.
Comment by Kirsten on June 1, 2012 at 12:03 pm
Beautiful post, beautiful story. Yes, where is the like/LOVE button here…:)
Comment by Helene on June 1, 2012 at 12:37 pm
always feel the same way – where is that “like” button!!!
Comment by Julie on June 1, 2012 at 1:25 pm
Hi Claire,
I don’t know what to say. It is 11.40pm here in Sydney. I am in bed, writing to you on my laptop. My husband is downstairs working. Our three little boys are asleep (for now) just down the hall. I should be asleep too, but I have been reading your book. Or should I say devouring.
I’d been thinking of sending in a manuscript of mine to Text Publishing – a memoir about grief would you believe – when I decided to find out if they actually published that sort of literature. I had a look around on their website which eventually led me to your book.
It arrived early this week and I have spent every night these last seven days reading it late at night before my husband and I turn our lights out. “Just a few more pages” has been my mantra every night.
You’ve completely drawn me in and I’ve been captivated by not only your beautiful writing, but more importantly your honesty and your story. I feel so privileged to be able to glimpse into part of your journey. Thank you for sharing yourself so selflessly with us.
Tonight I felt compelled to visit your website, and right now I feel compelled to leave a comment because I’ve literally just read up to the part where you changed plans and met Greg in Chicago on your way home from Cape Cod.
Seeing these photos of the two of you in real life has taken my breath away!
Sorry for this very long comment, but I guess I just wanted to say hi and thank you.
I’m sure I’ll be back to visit your blog. I have to go read another few chapters now before my husband comes up and turns my light out.
Ronnie xo
Comment by Pink Ronnie on June 9, 2012 at 6:48 am
Leave a Comment