I have been thinking a lot about the word, “If” lately.
“If,” is a supposition of something uncertain. That’s it.
“If,” means to suppose on a condition. Most times, “If,” means to suppose on a different set of conditions, whichare the opposite of the conditions we’ve been given.
We say things like, “If I had only come sooner,” or when dealing with a struggle we say, “If I had only seen this coming.”
Sometimes, I think about past arguments and wish I spoke differently. In some cases, and certainly in sicker times; I have been guilty of reliving old conversations because thoughts come to me as I say to myself, “If I had only said this instead of that.
I don’t know about this word, “If.”
Most times, the word “If” begins the thought process of regret.
Throughout the years some of my most famous “Ifs” are these:
If I could just have one more chance
If I had just said, “I’m sorry.”
If I knew this was going to happen, I would have done so many things differently.
The problem is life does not always come with warnings.
Take the time when I took out The Old Man’s car for example. If I had only known The Old Man parked it with the steering wheel in a certain position, I would have never been caught.
And if I had chosen to drive home instead of trying to look cool while doing donuts and spinning around in the quiet side-street intersection at Coolidge drive and Casper Avenue, I might not have cracked up The Old Man’s car and bent the rear axle on his Chevy Caprice.
I used to wonder what my life would have been like if I was in less trouble as a kid. I wonder what would have happened if turned right instead of left one Sunday night in August back in 1989.
I wonder if The Old Man really watches over me, and if he’s proud of what he sees.
I wonder what would have happened if I stuck with what I wanted to do instead of only doing what I had to do—I wonder if I would be happier, or if I would be different.
I wonder if I knew the last time you called me on the phone would be the last time I heard your voice. I wonder what I would have said. I wonder if I would have apologized for the way it all ended. I wonder if you would have seemed less angry or frustrated.
The word “If” fits in to so many different factors
I wish I called more. I wish I was more patient. I wish life was easier, but it isn’t.
I wish I didn’t begin so many thoughts with the word, “If.”
And by thoughts, I mean thoughts like, “If I had only listened to you the week before you died and gone down to see you—I would have had the chance to say goodbye.”
It’s strange. One year is gone.
It’s been one full year today.
I don’t think I like the word “If,” Mom
I miss you, Mom
I’ll write to you again soon, but it would be nice If I could hear back from you.
Now . . .
if only that could happen
that would really be something