Almost 30: Orphaned?

I am almost 30 years old. This fact will become important later.

A few months ago when I was home, I went with my mom to Chapters (Canada’s version of Barnes & Noble). She went off to pick up a book at customer service. I began perusing the front table display of books, wandered to the next table, and then the one beside that. I read the back covers, found a few that looked like interesting reads. I perused and I wandered and I waited for my mom. And then it started to dawn on me: maybe I had been abandoned by my mother in Chapters.

I looked around, but couldn’t see her anywhere. I didn’t want to stray from the area where she had left me because what if she came back looking for me? And I am now tall enough to see over the book shelves, unlike the times as a child when I tried to find my parents in a sea of grown ups and came up to their knee caps.

I didn’t have any money. I didn’t have any identification. I resigned myself to the pitiable reality: this was my new life. I even said aloud to myself, “well, I guess this is my new life.” I was sad. I was scared. It was only 10am.

Suddenly I saw a flash of a dark black bob with bangs. My heart leapt with hope. Realized it was an Asian woman with the same haircut as my mother. I thought, close enough?

I sighed sadly.

And then, all of a sudden, my mother appeared. She wondered why I hadn’t gotten my Starbucks, the whole reason for my straying from her side, which I had forgotten in all of the abandonment. I held my mother’s hand as we perused the card section for a birthday card for my sister. I was glad I didn’t have to start a new life.

In case you forgot, I am almost 30 years old.