Wide Open Spaces

Last week my grandmother surprised us all by having a stroke. She is doing better for the moment—so far, she can swallow again and she can laugh, but she can’t talk—and my mom and aunt flew to be with her. “If you can come, you’ll be glad you did,” my mother told me yesterday on the phone. “It is being a very sweet time.” I bought my ticket the same day.

I am unsure what the future holds for me. Funny I should feel like saying that now. When are we ever sure what the future holds for us? See Grandma’s stroke above. Somehow routines and relationships give me a feeling of knowingness. In DC, I can pretend that I know what the future holds for me; for instance, eating chocolate chip cookie dough with Stephanie and dinner with Manfriend. If I were staying in DC, my money would be on those things.

This next life move is cracking those guesses-posing-as-certainties wide open. Life in Las Vegas feels unknown. How will I survive a year with no cherry blossoms, no leafy canopies, no Potomac? Life after Las Vegas is unknown. Where will a 30-year-old Sarah find a place to lay her head?

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