3 weeks

In three weeks we will hit the road.

I am not sure what we will find when we get there, but now that it is creeping up on me, I don't know that I am ready.

There are too many decisions.
Do I cap off a trip to the Grand Canyon and Disneyland with a visit to the house where my mother died?

And what about the stepmother? Do I set up an awkward lunch date? Do I let my children chew on lukewarm Applebee's macaroni while staring at her in the same way they watched Malificent prowl through the electric light parade?

Or even worse, take them on a clandestine trip to her office and peer through the window like she is a rabid wolverine?

The professor says yes to any and all of them. He says whatever it takes to gain closure.
I am not convinced.

The reality of the situation is that Uncle B. moved my mom to the coast a long long time ago. She is not in that town where we grew up - there is nothing there but a rock - a rock, two houses and an old lady that is not remotely scary anymore.

But I have to go.
And I have to show them the places where everything happened. Where the stepbrother lit the ranch on fire, where I fell off the horse, where their history started. Just not sure where to start digging.