There's no way of knowing the direction my life might have taken had I not stepped onto a trampoline on my Black Friday after Thanksgiving, 1960. Or If I hadn't stopped by my sister's house on that Spring day when the girl in the fuzzy pink sweater and tight beige jeans was there. Would I even be the person I think I am? Who knows? Not me. Our lives are full of forks in roads. Often not aware that one simple turn --- a few seconds ---an unlaced shoe, could change everything. And then there are the forks taken by those before us. The big ones as well as those that appear inconsequential. If my grandmother had married the stonecutter. If my Grandfather didn't survive the cave in. If my father hadn't ordered chopped chicken-liver from the cute waitress at that restaurant

Mode of access: World Wide Web