today is a day of “what if’s”.
what if I had a childhood. a happy childhood with parents that believed me and supported me. what if?
my senior year of high school, took the SAT – all those goofy tests they had us take. our class had an opportunity with the local university to look into the upcoming world of computers. (yeah – dinosaur years) I loved it. the logic, the order and everything made such sense. my parents, of course, wanted me in music, but if I “wanted to waste my time” on other things, my Senior year was the time for it. ’bout a month before graduation I received notice of a partial scholarship with my music at a college in California. so my plans were set. a couple weeks before I graduated, the university called and left word that with my SAT scores, and my aptitude at their “getting to know computers” sessions – that I was a natural. my mother thanked them but said I already had a school in mind. so off to the religious college in California. fifteen years later, while I’m holding my second daughter, my mother happens to tell me about this call from the university – the one she hid from me at the time – and hoped I wasn’t mad at her. what if she had told me then – before I left for out-of-state. I wouldn’t be scrambling now to learn and grow in programming, and pushing for computer-related work. I’d be there. or retired. what if?
my family held a reunion, of course, ALL their kids were going, so we went along. I was napping in the back of my parent’s RV, woke up to over hear them in the front of the vehicle talking about their kids. how proud most of them made them. and such great in-laws. my father’s comment? “well, all except Marc’s wife”. what if I had stood up to him then, told him what I thought? what if I had been a man for once and not a scared child inside? what if?
I suppose everyone has those “what if’s”. but lately – like today – all I can think of is everything I’ve missed because of their interference in my life. when my older brother tried to drown me in their pool. what if I had insisted they do something about it? when my younger brother was in the car accident and my father, in his hospital bed after heart surgery, half-waved to me when I walked in the room, but hugged my brother and told him he loved him. what if he had EVER said those words to me? what if?
I’ve never been big on hate. it wastes energy. but I feel nothing but disappointment and, yes, hate for what they did to me. how I was manipulated to be who they thought I should be.
what if, for once, they had seen me for who I was and supported me?
what if I even once had felt worthy of ANYthing?
what if I felt it now?
what if, indeed.