The Crossroad

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood….” I love this poem by Robert Frost although a divergent road doesn’t quite fit my story—it’s just sounds more romantic.

From fifth grade through college graduation, my life’s path was aimed at the goal of teaching and more specifically, teaching music. I was born and raised in the Missouri and spent my first year of teaching in Illinois. That spring my Chinese college roommate asked me to be maid of honor at her wedding in California. I had no inkling at the time, but a major crossroad was soon to appear in my journey.

After the wedding, I flew back only as far as Wyoming since I planned to visit another college roommate, Ruthie, who was home there for the summer. And it so happened that Ruthie had an older brother. Older brother drove 120 miles to the Rock Springs airport in his powder-blue MGB (along with his sister) to pick me up. That first meeting piqued my interest and the week I had planned to stay in Wyoming soon moved past seven days. I even began getting calls from my mom asking when I planned to return homeJ

Three weeks later I arrived back in Missouri, sensing a major life change was in the offing. But I had signed a contract to teach another year at the school in Illinois so Dean (the older brother), made plans to come to Missouri at least a couple of times during the school year to visit. In the meantime, many letters crossed the western plains (there was no e-mail or FaceBook in those days).

The crossroad appeared when I received a phone call from a school superintendant, a friend of Dean’s family, who was moving to a new school and needed a music teacher. I told him I’d already signed a contract with the school in Illinois and he urged me to ask for a release. I doubted my chances because both my principal and superintendant had retired at the end of the school year so I doubted I would have anyone sympathetic to my desire to move West (and see more of Dean).

Now came the decision. What if the Illinois school board released me from my contract? Did I have the intestinal fortitude to move to Wyoming to teach on an Indian reservation under a supervisor I’d never met? Dean and his folks lived 120 miles from where I would be teaching, so I would essentially be living among strangers. Dare I make a drastic turn at this crossroad or continue on the straight path I was on?

I wrote to the school board of the school in Illinois and within a couple of weeks I received a reply from them releasing me from my contract. And my decision was made.

There have been many divergences from the major direction change I took at that crossroad—some were planned, some were surprises. They would include marriage, children, major illnesses, financial disaster/well-being, and widowhood. Career changes would move me from public school music teaching to private studio teaching to secretarial/bookkeeping positions and then retiring to write.

How many of these paths/life changes might have transpired if I hadn’t met Dean and moved West at that crossroad? I don’t know. But I married a wonderful man, have two loving sons and have enjoyed multiple experiences, making many friends during this journey. I have no regrets about that crossroad decision and can say at this point, “that has made all the difference.”