Last Weekend

It was three of us who rode down to Red River Gorge.  While any other time the scenery would have been enough of an excuse to make the trek, our purpose was for something that hadn’t lasted for thousands of years and that would exist for thousands more. Like the glaciers that carved out the cliff we stood on, we too stood on the brink of  ground altering, life changing events. My mother wore a White Dress.

It was my sister and girlfriend who rode with me to our destination. A small crowd for an event I disliked. I would have prefered to see the National Forest for its beauty and taken a nice walk, but it was not I who was walking. Arm in arm, my Mother and her Fiance marched toward a well cut man in a pressed suit, who signified to all of us a new beginning, as they put it. However happy it made her, I could not help but think of the things it was also an end to.

I had discussed this with my Mother on a previous occasion, she knew my sisters and my’s opinion on the man she now loved, ten years after her divorce with my Father. I know the classic stereotype of teen’s and step-parents, but this was different. I have no problem welcoming new people into my life, and love my Step-mother who my dad had married a few years prior. With thi, I rationalize that my opinions are unbiased. But this man, who seems more immature than his children, is not the kind of person I would hope to have in My Life, but to no avail it happened.

I am happy for my mother, it is not my place to be anything else. As she said her vows, her happiness poured from her, filling the space and even the canyon below. And in that moment, it is clear whatever happens I will support her, to support her happiness and ideas, and will be along for the trudge toward the future that every human must make. Only now, her hike through the scenic woods of life won’t be quite as lonely.

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Strayed’s style  is represented here in the hinting at finalities before outwrite saying them. Flashback, Strayed’s go-to strategy in Wild can be found here,  as well as an emulation in her avid descriptions and metaphors. Ironically, but of our stories took place in a beautiful nature scene, and we both experienced life-changing events there. While that is not style, out content is strangely related.

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