This is a topic I think about often. I’m a firm believer in that everything I’ve every done has brought be to this point in my life. From throwing sand in a boy's face in kindergarten, to choosing a prom date, to the four cupcakes I had yesterday (*smile*)—I believe that, as singer Lauryn Hill once crooned, Everything Is Everything.
Conversely, I try not to live my life with regrets. But I do enjoy thinking about the what ifs now and then.
What if my parents had never met?
What if they had met a month earlier than later?
What if my parents had moved to North Carolina instead of Virginia?
What if my parents decided not to have sex that night?
This is the most fascinating part to me. What if another of my dad’s swimmers made to it the shore? Then I wouldn’t be me, but someone almost like me. Would my hair be longer or shorter? Would I have darker skin? Would I be a heavy drinker or have a predilection for addictions? Would I be a tolerant person? Would I love literature as I do now? Or would I be scraping together a living because I decided not to go to college?
Or what if my dad sent along an Y chromosome instead of an X? Then I’d be a boy. What kind of boy would I be?
Hmmm. I imagine I would be 5’ 10”, 160 pounds, wishing I could bulk up but not having the physical make-up for it. I would be tall and relatively fit, but would find something wrong with me. I would be the eldest child, with a younger brother and sister living in the Deep South. After many failed relationships and lots of one-night stands, I would marry a woman I found as I turned 40. We would try to start a family but it would be difficult because of our ages. We’d live in a row house we bough just outside of Washington DC. I’d be happy in my job as an public defender but I think I’d have a longing for something more, such as being an author of mystery novels. I'd call my mother often, because I’d be a mamma’s boy at heart.
I could go on and on—the possibilities are endless.