How I Met My Mother

I met my mother for the first time in a mall when I was 19.

As a child, when I was asked where she was, I would respond with a very honest and simple “I don’t know.” I never knew. When I got into my early teen years, I stopped wondering and started to think she was no longer alive. I had found peace with that. I didn’t want to accept that a mother would walk away from a struggling child.

I had just moved to Seattle from San Diego a year earlier. I left a few weeks after I graduated high school with the goal of creating a new life outside of everything I knew.

I was working for Microsoft at one of their retail stores as a technician. If you are unfamiliar, imagine the Genius Bar at an Apple Store. We stood behind a long, wooden desk and took appointments to help with a standard list of PC and Xbox issues. I was taking an appointment for a virus removal on a couple’s laptop. Normally I stood behind the desk, but for this appointment, I walked around to the other side. I stood in between th…