What If I Had… But Didn’t?

Perhaps I could have been a backup singer, or a TV commentator.

Perhaps I could have chosen different marriage partners—or chosen to have children.

Perhaps I could have been born of a different ethnic background, or with a disability, or in a small, unknown country.

Perhaps I could have had abusive parents. Perhaps I might have died at 15, or 27, or 41.

But none of the “could haves” happened. The “perhaps” were decisions I didn’t make.

I am here today, looking back on a life that doesn’t carry regret for the roads I didn’t take. As I gaze through the misty past, not one of the choices I did make leaves me wishing for another outcome.

Chasing the “what ifs” is a trek down a path lined with dead-end frustrations that block today’s joys, challenges, successes, and even setbacks.

Perhaps if I’d been a backup singer for Tony Bennett, I would have missed living in Chicago.

Perhaps if I’d chosen different partners, I might never have learned the messy beauty of step-parenting, or how to manage apartments, or how to stretch a limited income—or lived in Mexico.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. But those lives weren’t mine. I made other choices. Now, as I survey 83 years of living, I no longer have time for the perhaps. Instead, I bask in the truth that there are still more decisions to come—more unknown consequences ahead. And that’s a “perhaps” worth taking. Another slice of life—burnt edges and all.