Desinty? Are You There?

Exhibit A.

After rejecting an acceptance to earn a PhD in History at Stanford, I’m a secretary at the University of Minnesota. Because tuition is free (due to my vaulted position as secretary) I’m able to take classes at the school. Although armed with just a B.A in Asian Studies and a minor in Chinese, I petition for and receive approval to take a graduate level course in English on Virginia Woolf. During the course of the advanced seminar, we hold hands and sing songs like “rainbow woman.” I cannot tell if several of the people in my class are men or women. We once throw paper in an iron bowl and set the scraps on fire, singing again. I am convinced graduate school should be my future.

Exhibit B

I send an application to the English Department, requesting admission into the M.A. in Creative Writing. This is yesteryear. The department chair calls me (NO EMAIL) and asks for a face-to-face, during which he tells me that the admission criteria for Creative Writing require –hard and fast—20 pages of a creative writing sample. My one page letter promising there’s potential even though I’ve never tried to write creatively, just won’t do—even in wild circumstances. Oddly – to my mind – he suggests I instead get a doctorate in English literature, given my Phi Beta Kappa, 4.0, Magna cum laude, third-in-your-class status.--despite my complete lack of background in English Literature.

Considering I am currently a secretary and this sounds better, I say yes.

Exhibit C

I am having coffee at a small shop with minimal seating. At least I want to be having coffee. There’s nowhere to sit. Finally, I sneak into the only remaining chair, across from a man my own age reading the newspaper. We exchange pleasantries.

Two weeks later, I have dream in which I am shopping at Target with this man. Somewhere – a voice (a real voice) inside tells me that this is the man I will marry and because of that, I should find out his name and get busy.

I go back to the coffee shop just once and he’s there. I find out his name and we talk for the next ten hours. And for the four days following.

We marry. Tonight --- 19 years later—I’ll slip into bed beside him.

Exhibit D

Newly wed but not young, a husband and wife share a bottle of wine, a movie and much laughter. They decide to test fate! No birth control tonight! If there’s a baby, the Universe calls. If not, parenting should not be for them. They decided to believe in the Sign.

A few weeks later, I call my husband at work, weeping. I’m pregnant.

We really weren’t committed to the idea or prepared. It was a gamble.

But we remain committed to the initial impulse and forge ahead. Baby! Eventually, there will be two more and we understand that the gamble gave us the greatest gift, one we could never imagine.

Do we create our destinies? I only know that I have stumbled upon mine, without plan, device or scheme. Still – the road seems right.

C’est la vie.