Over the summer, I was employed as a caretaker to "provide care for" one little girl. She is adorable, of course, and it is a joy to be able to know this little person.
It is through these experiences that I have begun to wonder what I was like when I was a small, obliviously happy child - from the perspective of those who knew me.
For example: I find myself wondering how I behaved in the presence of my babysitter when I was an 8-year old. Did I dictate the Ws ("You there! Yeah, you. Come here and kneel before my amazing fortitude!")? Did a halo float above my curly locks as I serenely looked upon my dastardly younger sibling who was crying a river that the sitter was attempting to divert? Did my babysitter think that I was a luminescent, radiant sun in a world full of thunderclouds, or was I the feared storm cloud looming on the horizon of my sitter's day planner?
So... now the big question: if you could relive any event in your life, what would it be?
Frankly, I don't believe in long-standing turmoil and regret. What's done is done. C'est fini. End of story and so on:
One can dream about "doing-over" a day in one's youth for a whole lifetime. One may want to go back and catch the ball in the Little League Baseball's final game of the season to become the celebrated athlete at the Neighborhood Potluck.
One may want to go back to the fight that was instigated in the heat of the moment - and concluded with ugly words and uglier ultimatums.
One may even want to go back to the comfort of a mother's warm embrace, laughing at life's little quirks - the little boy whose glasses are forever slipping down his nose that is always staring when he thinks the concerned individual is not looking; the frolicking puppy that came in for show-and-tell and that kept tripping over its own feet in order to be petted by the 30 tiny hands that grapple for purchase in his silky, sandy fur; or the way daddy always tells you that, "No; absolutely not. You already have too many toys," right before he buys you the best toy you have ever owned - just because, with this new, tactile trinket, you know that daddy still can't resist your fervently-practiced puppy-dog eyes. But then reality sets in as strong, reassuring arms dissipate and you remember that your mother can't hold you after a tough day: the accident long ago left you always missing her.
You can't change the past. That is reality.
Nostalgia may grip you for a time, submersing you in your treasured memories, before senility becomes your reality and you don't know whether your recently-deceased husband is haunting you from the grave or whether your best friend from Grade 3 ever payed you back for finishing her math homework on the probability of friends being friends until they are old and wrinkled (lolly-pops were a hot commodity back then).
"The past is behind, learn from it. The future is ahead, prepare for it. The present is here, live it."
- Thomas S. Monson
0 comments:
Post a Comment