A year ago we began to search for our next home, after spending 28 years in the house we raised our family in. We eventually decided on this one, where we live now, because it had everything we needed and wanted as Empty Nesters. One day, while sitting at the wedding of a friend, before our first house had sold, I was thinking about this new house (I know, I should have been thinking only of the wedding and my friend's happiness, but you know how minds wander...) and suddenly I realized that the place where this home sits overlooks the canyon where I used to drive go-carts and motorcycles with my Dad (who had died a few months previous) and my brothers. Just as soon as I made that connection, I could hear my Dad (in my mind) laughing and saying, "You finally figured it out!" I began to cry and couldn't stop because I knew that my Dad knew what was going on in our lives and he was delighted. People noticed me crying (Remember, I was at a wedding) and I'm sure they all thought I was one of those people who always cry at weddings...but I couldn't explain at the time what was really going on.
Now let's skip ahead. Our house sold, we moved in here, and began to get settled. One day, another memory came into my mind, one that I had long since forgotten. It's almost spooky, but in a good way I suppose.
On the last day of April, 1972, my husband and I, then high school Seniors, went on our first date. A week or two later, in May, he asked if he could drive me home from school (I usually rode the bus!). I told him about this canyon area nearby that my family used to play in. He wanted to see it, so we drove down the dirt road to explore. When it was time to leave we got in his car and started back up the hill, but the car suddenly died (it got a vapor-lock). We were stuck and there was no one around. I was wearing a short little skirt and some clunky heels, which weren't the best for hiking in, so Ken decided to run the 1/2 mile or so out to the main road and call for help. Eventually a tow truck came down and hauled out the little car. (It cost $20, which was a huge amount then for a high school kid to shell out!)
Fast forward to 2009: that little dirt road is now the street where I live. The spot where the car stopped was HERE! We got stuck in the place we would someday call home! If only we had known. Can you just imagine?
"Hey, I know we've only gone out a couple times, but I have the feeling that we should get married, raise a family, and then when we are grandparents we can come back here and buy the house that will be built in this place. What do you think?"
It boggles my mind to think why things like this happen. I don't have an explanation, but it seems to be much more than coincidence to me.
This very old picture was taken of us with the "vapor-lock car" a few months after our canyon experience, but that's the same skirt I was wearing when it happened. It's a horrible, faded image, scanned from a very tiny print, but it reminds me of that day long ago, so I will post it. Snicker all you want. :)
3 comments:
What a wonderful story! Dorothy, you look just as great as ever, but thank goodness Ken's hairstyle has changed! Oh, the 70s... :)
I think you and my mom could have a short skirt contest. Haha.
Also, what a fascinating story. I think if time in your life is cycling one way then it must be cycling in the opposite direction in mine. The dorms that Bryan and I lived in have since been torn down and now there's nothing there but an open field, as if our memories and courtship there never existed. Perhaps in some cosmic scheme our first home had to be torn down for your "grandparent" home to be built. ...Strange to think about.
An after thought:
I just saw your post below about going to the zoo and couldn't help but notice that the stone statues your grandkids are climbing on are the same ones that have been there since I was a kid. Perhaps they are at the center and time revolves around them.
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