120 Blind Dates... And Other Short Stories

#Beginning#Weekendwritein: The Story of My Life

There have been many beginnings in my life.

The first one was actually the most obvious one. I wasn't consciously present at it and have never questioned my parents about it. It's kind of awkward to talk to your parents about how and where they conceived you... Like, do you really want to know?

By contrast, my birth at Redwood County Hospital was well-documented. I can tell you everything about it, including the exact minute of my birth, weight, size of my body and even the vaccines I received in the first weeks of my life. My parents kept a scrapbook in which my mother wrote down what my father had said when he had first laid eyes on me, "Eleanor, I think he takes after your side of the family!" And she had said, "I think you're right. He's so tiny!"

Then there were the two photo albums with pictures of my childhood: My first steps, my first dog, my first bicycle, my first skiing lesson and my first day in kindergarten, sporting a mean haircut and a worried face. I cannot give you the full list as it would be endless.

As I had become older, I had taken the pictures myself and made my own albums because you did that in those days before everyone owned a smartphone with a camera. My favorite picture was the picture of my first car. It was very old and a piece of junk, but I was so proud to be able to drive that I just had to drive it against the tree in our front porch one night. Another picture showed Caroline, the girl I was dating at the time. She had had the most beautiful smile and had not only been the star cheerleader at our high school, but had also looked pretty in her white prom queen dress and with a sparkling tiara on her head. Of course, she broke up with me because she had to wear a neck brace for six weeks when I smashed my car with her in it.

There were a lot of high school and college graduation pictures, too, as my parents had been so proud of me, the first member of the family to go to college. I suppose I looked no different from everyone else in those pictures: I was happy that school was finally over, so I put on a bright grin. 

I had gotten married pretty early. Charlene and I were very traditional in that respect. Unfortunately, it didn't last more than a year, so all that remained of our marriage were the beautiful wedding pictures and the mortgage on our new house - which I would not have to pay any longer. 

Unfortunately, I had only begun to take that new virus seriously when I myself had caught it. By then, it was too late for me. So the last picture that would ever be taken of me was me lying in my coffin, dead at 34.