Has anyone ever listened to the song “I am a lonesome hobo” by Mr. Dylan? I do more research on his song lyrics as I write and I just connected with this one. He talks about how quickly things can change, rags to riches and how we shouldn’t accept any one aspect of life as being finite. Isn’t that the truth?

“I know by now you feel alone, more alone than one should ever feel, but you’re not. ” As I sat on the airplane headed back to New York, I replayed those words in my head multiple times. My father had written those words to me about six years ago. For anyone that knew me at 17, well then you would understand that those words came from a letter that I was to read while on my way to Alaska. My apologies to anyone who doesn’t know that story, but honestly that is an entire other book. Let’s leave it at 17 year old girl, bad choices, bad boyfriend, (those two always seem to go hand in hand) very loving and protective parents.

The irony of these words had not escaped my current situation, as I sat on the plane definitely feeling more alone than I ever had before. I recalled that at one point in the letter he goes on to say that “you will always be in my heart sweetheart, ” and I feel the burning sensation behind my eyes threatening more tears to fall. The questions still pull at my thoughts and my heart wondering how someone so committed to loving me could have given up without even a goodbye.

As if that didn’t already seem like a flight to China, rather than Texas to New York, we had to make an emergency landing in Philadelphia. The pilot explained there were technical difficulties that needed to be looked at. What he really meant was, the flight attendant had accidentally closed the seat belt to the unoccupied jump seat in the door and it was throwing an error code to the cockpit. I heard them joke about it as I sat on the plane waiting for the next take off. Clearly, this was meant to be one hell of a journey.

Stepping off the plane in Buffalo (because of course everything to Rochester was oversold) I was greeted by my Aunt Becky and her partner Joan. They embraced me instantly and I could feel Aunt Becky’s chest heaving under her sobs. I must admit I felt like an asshole because I was the only one who wasn’t crying. In fact, since the night my mother broke the news to me I had a warm tear trickle here and there, but the uncontrollable sobs had since ceased. I survived solely on the adrenaline within my body and the intense time lapse of thoughts and memories that flowed through my mind.

I must admit, there are some missing portions of these days, to which I have had to turn to my loved ones to help fill in the gaps. As we continue, you will see how much really happened, and how each of us only knew a minuscule part. As the dramatic plot unfolded, the scenes that we each played in became more fluent and started to piece together the real story; the one I am going to tell you now.