2 a.m. travels and lifes little O's...

It's 2 o'clock in the morning and traveling South on I-15, frustrated at myself for being so forgetful, I am cruising once again into the abyss of cultural absence that is Utah County. I finished a two day stay here not two hours earlier, and now, speeding back, I can't help but re-live it all.

Time with my family these days is fraught with the taint of sadness. Watching helpless as our patriarch slips away from us is infuriating, frustrating, and just plain hard. What little time we thought we had is now just dust from a shattered hourglass blown away by a wind that we can neither control nor reason with. When helplessness consumes you, it's hard not to turn on each other...or turn to each other. Hoping for more of the latter, you soon simply learn to press on.

There are moments of clarity. But, mixed with all the fear of losing, they are so hard to hang onto. So, you do the only thing left...live the moment you have.

A day goes by, and then another. I spend most of the last day surrounded by the modern day equivalent of Universal Zetetic Societies (have fun looking that one up). After hours of etching the pristine, and not-so-pristine, bodies of my hometown with temporary art; and listening to the myriad of ignorant exchanges like:

"Don't forget to give HIM the money."

"Tell HIM thank you."

or

"Ask HIM how much the little ones are."

et al

I am both physically and spiritually spent. Patience is a virtue. That phrase is bandied about more often as an excuse than anything else. I know I'm not the most attractive female around (not by a long shot), and my boobs are not what anyone would refer to as spectacular, but it's not hard to see that I have eye shadow, lipstick, blush, mascara, and two little bumps on my chest that DO NOT resemble pecs in any way, shape, or form. So, the ignorance of proofs that are so obvious as to be seen by the naked eye is well...Flat-Earthers unite!

Then it happens, those moments my therapist liked to call the "orgasims of life". One child looks at their parent as though they must have made a mistake. Another looks around trying to find who they wanted them to thank and for what. A man running the booth next to mine says:

"You ladies look like you could use a snickerdoodle."

A mother tells her cute little boy to thank HER for the tattoo...to which he responds:

"Thank you Sara."

in the cutest little voice on the planet!

All of this is flying through my thoughts as I reach the end of Spanish Fork Main Street. On my way back to my parents house at 2:30 in morning to retrieve so many things I left behind. Then, suddenly, my repose is interrupted by the flashing blue and red lights of your local hometown police. I curse, a little bit, at the fact that I haven't yet been able to fix that broken headlight, and I brace for what is sure to come. The grand Salt Lake County police force has proven time and time again how much they share with that grand society of the unenlightened...my faith is lacking.

The conversation, as best I can remember it, goes like this:

"How are you tonight?

Fine.

Your front headlight is out.

Yeah, the fuse is burned out in the...little box...and I got all the way to Salt Lake and forgot that I left some stuff at my parents house...so I got in the car and completely forgot that I left my drivers license at home. But, I have all this."

I hand him the insurance and registration. He asks me for my birth date.

"Just celebrated a birthday hey?

Yup.

Okay, I'll be right back."

I wait in my car hoping that he won't give me a ticket for not having my license on hand. He isn't gone long it seems before he is back at my window.

"Okay. Well, I'm going to just give you warning tonight. But get that fixed okay.

Yes. I will.

Okay. I hope you don't mind my asking, and I'm not trying to be rude or anything, but on your drivers license it reads male...

Yeah. That's wrong...

So...

I'm transitioning.

Okay. So you prefer...Ma'am...right?

Yes. I know. I need to get that changed.

I mean I got back there and I thought something was wrong because it didn't match up. I thought...she looks fine to me. So, you know.

Well thank you.

Well you look great.

Thank you.

Anyway, drive safe.

Thanks again."

So, sans make-up, hair a complete mess and exposing what I considered my dead-giveaway-receding-hairline, and no bra...at 2:30 in morning on the "backwoods" road between my hometown and Spanish Fork Utah; I am surprised by the kindness and complete acceptance of one of the finest peace officers I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Quite possibly the best "little death" I have ever had!

Sara Jade Woodhouse