One of the stories my family has repeated for as long as I can remember is about the day I got left behind at a shopping mall when I was little.
My dad always tells it like itâs a funny family memory.
According to him, I wandered off on my own while everyone was loading groceries into the car, and they didnât realize I was missing until a store employee announced my name over the intercom.
Everyone laughs when the story comes up. For years, I laughed too.
But as I got older, I started wondering how a young child could have disappeared for that long without any adult noticing.
The more I thought about it, the less sense the story made.
Eventually, I started to believe that I hadnât wandered off at all. I think I was accidentally left behind and that admitting that was harder for my parents than turning it into a story about me being adventurous.
Maybe Iâm wrong.
The truth isâŚâŚ.