Imagine driving through the mountains. You have no choice but to keep looking outside. Most of the view lacks significant scenery, but occasionally, you can catch sight of some landscapes.

There are hardly any places to stop since the exits are sparse. You’re so bored.

That was the moment you realized you needed a way to entertain yourself.

Cell phones existed, but they weren’t like what we have today. Additionally, cell towers were few and far between.

Reading would have been impossible due to car sickness. I experienced that once while riding through the Blue Ridge Mountains and lost my entire breakfast all over the backseat. It was a nasty situation.

So, with a pen and some paper, my mom loved creating her imaginary boyfriends. It was the best moment of her life. She would list all the states and create a boyfriend for each one.

Then you write a biography for a few of the boyfriends.

When you get to Ohio, you stop at a rest stop. There, you see a man. He matches the description of the boyfriend you created for Ohio.

This joke goes on for a while, but later becomes irrelevant. So, you stop talking about those boyfriends until your sister passes away.

When you write her a letter, you mention her boyfriends. It is relevant once again. 

So, I started finding your boyfriends all the time. Every random guy, I would point at and say, “There goes your boyfriend.”

I don’t know how many boyfriends she had by the time she died. 

Her boyfriends were spotted around town while I was on trips. I remember several times when my chosen sister, Molly, and I were briefly in Indiana. We went to the restroom at one of those truck stops. A man walked out with cat litter, and that’s when Molly started looking for imaginary boyfriends for Mom.

The other time was when Molly and I were caravanning from Niagara Falls, Ontario to Erie, Pennsylvania. We were on the New York Turnpike when a guy rode past me on a motorcycle. I thought to myself, “Well, there goes one of Mom’s boyfriends.”

All of a sudden, my Bluetooth goes off. Incoming call from Molly the wonderful. I answered the phone safely. “Your mom’s boyfriend just drove by on the motorcycle.”

Molly genuinely believed in my mom’s imaginary boyfriends.

I’m not sure how Mom felt about me having all those boyfriends. I think she either rolled her eyes or pretended not to hear me when I talked about them.

It’s a fun story that will be a legacy not only of hers but also of mine.

That list still exists, but I can’t find it. One day, I will, and maybe I’ll share some of the names. Some we were creative with, while others were less so.

Oh well, it’s the thought that matters.