So the same thing is happening that happened when I was writing the one true thing posts. I find myself trying not to think about the next post. As if to think about it before I begin to write might scare a memory away.

1976: The very cute captain of the football team knocks on the door of my single room. We start to see each other. I’m confused about what I want. He is not. I can’t make breaking up with my boyfriend make sense–what will happen to all our memories? to everything we’ve said to each other? My favorite class is French Canadian Literature, and I make plans to spend the summer I’m 19 in Québec City. The captain of the football team can’t understand why. I take courses at Université Laval, go to concerts en plein air (Gilles Vigneault, Pauline Julien, Claude Gautier), am wined and dined en français by an older French guy. It’s magical, and for a crazy moment, I consider transferring to Laval. But I make the safe decision, and in the fall, I head back to Davidson with my boyfriend, rushing by the hospital to speak to my grandfather who will die in a few weeks. I have to wait and I’m impatient. In November, Jimmy Carter wins the election. My sophomore year I have a cool roommate–Jake wears unfastened short boots, smokes, and drives a Fiat with a stick shift. I want a Fiat. Lying on our mattresses on the floor, we listen to every song on Boz Scaggs’ Silk Degrees (What Can I Say, Georgia, It’s Over…) and to If You Leave Me Now from Chicago X. As the year comes to an end, the sun sets on the cover of the Eagles’ Hotel California.

41 days to 60


Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
Mary Oliver