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Open Letter To Mom

Hey Mom,
The other day I was wondering if you've skied up, and left guardianship of me to someone or something else. I've seen a sign from you since last year, even though I've been asking and prayer for assistance down here.

I chalked it up to your Yoda-esque, you'll-get-help-when-you-really-need it teachings. You know, I've never understood it, or liked it.



On Sunday, I was musing over my current situation of trying to cope, trying to buy a house, and left wondering if I barreling down the right life path. There I was driving along Maltby Rd (Hwy 527), tunes cranked up, as I zipped along the windy road. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a bald eagle perched in a tree about 40 feet up and 500 feet away. It's eyes landed on mine, then swooped down to road level, and in the right hand lane - my lane.

So majestic.
So ginormous!

The wingspan was ridiculous. There it was guiding me down the road I've been down hundreds of times. For a moment, there were no other cars on the road. Not behind me, not oncoming. I could've sworn the eagle looked behind to ensure I was still following. Once it had confirmation, it banked hard right, and skyward.



I haven't seen a bald eagle this far away from the Skagit River Valley, and that this time of year. Either that was you, or my spirit animal, or I'm just trying to conjure some coincidental magic. I couldn't believe what I saw.

The nation's mascot, the universally accepted American symbol for freedom, leading me. Ain't that something!

The road less traveled by is the road I must take, huh? At any rate, thank you for sign you're still looking out for me.

Love ya,
Your Son

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