I do not know about you, but I can look back at some of the forks in the road, some of the trajectories of my life, and be in awe that it all turned out the way it did.
- Moving to Saudi Arabia
- Leaving Saudi for the last time, knowing I would likely never go back
- Not finishing graduate school
- Leaving a long-time job
- Quitting my dream job
At the time, they all seemed like monumental choices, or, in some cases, like I had no choice.
But as the years slip slowly by, it all feels predestined in a way.
And not even in a religious way, necessarily: Just fate making things as they should be.
Maybe we have less control than we would like to admit?
Brenda came to see me in Nashville late that summer. As we sat by the pool at Dad’s house on the lake, I was miserable, hating her for being so beautiful when I was bloated with hormones, hating her for having a return ticket to London. It had not even occurred to me—and it wouldn’t occur to me for another twenty years—that I could have argued with my father and simply gone back. It seemed a bad moment for my old, limp personality to resurface, but in retrospect, I’m grateful he could see the possible trajectories of my life, and intervened to keep me connected to him and the rest of my family.
