When I was eight years old, my mom married a man named Glen, who I would later understand was put into my life to illustrate everything I didn’t want in a father, partner, or friend. With distance and therapy, I’m at peace with his role in my life. Actually, I think we all have people come into our lives who function in this way; clear contrast can be a gift of sorts. One of my most vivid memories of him was when he offered to build me a treehouse in the backyard. It was soon after he’d moved in, so I was happy for his interest in providing something fun for me. I loved climbing trees of all sizes and types, having a bird’s eye view of my Redding neighborhood and my dog Partner below. A few days later, Glen went to work cutting a two by four and attaching it into the yoke of the mimosa tree. I was so thrilled with this first step, and I climbed up to the two by four to perch as soon as he gave me the green light.

Of course, the treehouse never progressed beyond that first day, first board. He made all kinds of excuses: not the right time of year, not enough money for wood, I misbehaved so was not deserving, and so on. While his real reason could have been legitimate, he clearly didn’t have the skills or interest to reassure or communicate with me. He would even tease my desire and disappointment. I sat with the feeling of that non-treehouse for a very long time–and then eventually put it out of my mind altogether.

Yesterday, when I arrived at our new place in Costa Rica, I wasn’t surprised by the treehouse, as I knew it was a feature on the property that the kids would enjoy. Yet, when I walked the path to it, something clicked. The slate rocks leading to the tree felt exactly like the ones leading to my childhood home in Redding. And then I looked up and next to the treehouse is a giant mimosa tree. Suddenly, the memory of that single two by four came flooding in. In that moment, I knew that the universe was aligning to remind me yet again that all of these changes have meaning. That I’m fulfilling my own dreams, meeting my own needs, even the ones that were resting just below the surface.