What a Long, Strange Trip It's Been

I was reading a magazine on the plane. Some trashy magazine I wouldn't ordinarily buy left by my seat's previous occupant. They asked some celebrity guy where he would be in ten years. Ordinarily, I wouldn't care what some actor or actress thinks, but it happened to be HIM. And he's that damn good-looking, so I read it. And his quote was something absurdist that I can't really recall because I am so exhausted from travel. BUT . . . the gist of it is who the hell knows, and that's what's so great about life. It's all an unknown.

I have been visiting my parents. My father is blind, and he doesn't have an easy time of things. Everything is hard when you are blind--particularly if you weren't BORN blind and only BECAME blind as an 74 year old man. A lot to get used to. And consequently, my mom doesn't have an easy time of things.

And to make a LONG story short, I am trying to get them to sell their house (yes, in THIS economy) and move near me so I can help caretake. And there were moments, as I ran after Demon Baby in their house, trying to keep him from leaving things on the floor that would trip my dad, where I thought . . . how did I get here? As in this video.

And when I think about it even more . . . I would not ever have pictured my life. Not being a writer--a working writer, a writer who actually publishes books. Not a mom of 4. (MAYBE two or three. Most definitely no Demon Baby in sight.) Not caring for my father, not him being blind. Not the books and adventures I've had--those horrible lows when I wonder . . . what the hell was I THINKING becoming a writer and then those amazing highs (Agent calling: "We have an offer.")

I'm not sure how I got here. Sometimes I think sheer force of will. Sometimes luck. Sometimes hard work. Sometimes persistance. Sometimes duty and compassion. Sometimes the fates.

How did I get here?

So tell me . . . when you survey your somewhat grown-up life . . . how did you get here, oh writers?