Twenty-five years ago today, at 9:45am, I received a phone call that changed my life.
Instantly, changed everything.
From that moment on, everything that i have done and everyone i have met in my adult life would not have happened.
No Traveling Science Program.
No NikCo.
It can be argued that every moment of every day changes your life, that there are infinite possibilities for you and every second you somehow choose a single one so the rest fall away.
Meta-physically, sure. I buy that.
But we all know that there are days, events, moments that shape us more than others.
That phone call changed the course of my life, but more importantly it also changed me.
Three words defined my actions, reactions, choices and, in many ways, my identity for a long time.
A long time.
I can full sense-memory recall that moment: where i was, how i felt, hear the words.
I can barely remember what i had for lunch yesterday, but that moment is as clear as a bell.
Twenty-five years have passed.
A lifetime.
Really, a bunch of different lives as careers and friends and families have changed through that time.
If i met 23 year old me on the street, i wonder if she would even be able to guess that I am her.
Would this chonky, middle-aged woman with two-toned hair and a quick laugh even feel familiar to her?
I wonder if she would believe me if i told her that she survives, that some day she would heal.
And be broken again.
And heal again and be broken again.
Etc.
That she would come to understand that life is an episodic cycle of triumph and pain.
That she would make peace with it and learn how to rejoice the ups and weather the downs.
That the time would come when she didn't cry every, single day?
That she would consciously search out joy and try to help others find it as well.
Sometimes, in a flash of melodrama, i do wish there was a way that i could reach back to comfort that girl. She was so lost.
But i know her and i think she probably wouldn't believe me anyway.
