At The Fork
Intersections, decisions, and the roads we travel.
Memories have a way of sneaking up on you, tapping you on the shoulder and reminding you of a moment where you came to a fork in the road. It was a sunny California day in June. My classmates and I stood outside the church waiting for our cue to enter. The cue? An organ playing Pomp & Circumstance March No. 1. As we walked up the aisles and into our pews, like we had practiced a few days prior, there were cameras flashing, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, uncles and aunts, all vying for that perfect photo of their graduate as they entered the building and marched to their seat.
As I stood there waiting for the rest of my class to line up in their pew, butterflies in my stomach stirred. I assumed they just came from the excitement of the occasion. However, I couldn’t help but notice a collective emotional feeling that lingered over like a low cloud. Faces looked like they were holding back tears—I was holding back tears, but why? What I did know was that kids, soon to be official adults with the mere swivel of a tassel from the right side to the left side, had spent almost every weekday of their lives, some as early as kindergarten, with the people sitting around them.
And now they were about to begin a journey that was theirs, and theirs alone.
After the ceremony we made our way out front for the ceremonial hat toss, and there wasn’t a dry eye to be seen. I was crying, looking around at faces, many I would never see again after that day. Friends that would silently fade into old classmates. And then I took a deep breath and thought to myself, “so, what’s next?” Looking back at that 18yr old young adult, I think that’s what the tears from so many of my classmates were about. Of course, there were tears of not knowing when you might see your friends again, the school that was your home from 8am-3pm Monday through Friday, and maybe even your favorite teacher. But I do believe it was something deeper.
“Now, what do I do?” Some of us had plans: college, military, get a job, sleep until noon everyday until it’s figured out. For myself, I wasn’t certain what I wanted to do. I had almost joined the Air Force, mainly because I thought that would please my father. Bridge the gap that had always been between us. I remember telling him I was planning to join—he didn’t seem very positive about it. Or at least that’s how I perceived it. After months of preparation I pulled out just one week prior to taking the oath. My recruiter was not pleased. But in my heart I felt the military was not my calling, even though I did like the idea of being away from home and traveling the world. But the military was the only way I could see to do it, and without it I had no other real options that I knew of.
Now—present day, here I am at another fork in the road, similar to when I was 18yrs old and graduating from high school, but this time I’m not asking, “what do I do now?” Now, it’s “what do you want to do now?” I’m no longer that young, wet behind the ears, newly adulted 18yr old. I’m a mature 54yr old man with options. I have my health, a career, my intellect, and a lifetime of living on my resume. There are no tears this time because the nature of the question has changed.
From age 18 to 54….36yrs that feel like they’ve gone by in the blink of an eye, I have lived all across the United States, spending the bulk of my adult life in New York. I’ve traversed the country by car numerous times. I’ve been to all 50 states, and five out of seven continents. But even with a passport filled with stamps, there is so much I didn’t do. So much I wanted to experience that I have yet to. Sometimes an opportunity will come your way, and you’re either ready or you’re not. The chance won’t wait for you to decide.
At 18, I didn’t realize the work, sacrifice, and hurdles that choice would bring. What I’ve come to understand on this journey we call life, of crossroads, junctions, on-ramps and exits… is that the road doesn’t decide for you. You’re still the one in the driver’s seat.
Are you ready?