Again

It was the looking back in wonderment of the time that was . . . disbelieving that all those days unfolded into years and those years signifying a time that had passed. And anyone who has lived some can fully grasp the understanding of how the days . . . the years . . . can rush and crawl all in the same breath.

It was the asking . . . the needing to know . . . would you do it all over again?

It was a hushed question in the stillness.

It was a hushed question I had asked myself many times months ago.

Would I do it all over again? If someone had told me everything that would happen - the good and the bad - if I took the steps in the direction that would lead me here, would I do it all over again?

When the pain cut fresh and sharp my answer was an anguished, regrettable no.

When the grief gave me nothing to see but endless black, I would have given anything for the pain to not have been and so my answer was one where the head shook as tears fell.

When the clouds started to part and light glimmered through, my response changed.

I had an overwhelming need to know what he would have done had he known.

Would he still have chosen me if he knew the pain and struggle that would come in doing so?

Would the good times make it worth it?

Would he do it all over again?

I wouldn't have believed them.

Because who when they are young and starting to really live their life believes that things will be hard?

We promise for better or for worse but who believes the worse will happen? I've learned that the promise isn't for the better. The promise is for the hard. If it isn't for the promise, what else is there left to cling to? Who believes that they will be the ones to sit across from a doctor and be told that the probability of having a child is extraordinarily slim? Who believes that marriage will become incredibly hard and you're left wondering if its really even worth it? Who believes that instead of going to their daughter's dance recitals, they will visit the graveyard instead?

Who would have believed them?

I'm so thankful for his response. His response lit up a dark corner of my mind and reminded me of the naivete and fairy tale dreams I used to possess and entertain.

Who would have believed them?

And isn't it better that we didn't know? In the bliss of not knowing there were dreams that got the chance to live and dance and there was faith that got un-caged and soared.










Stephanie