Last year a new ABC show had a down on his luck Travis celebrating his 30th birthday by wishing he could go back to high school and win the heart of his lost love (who’s not lost since she’s married to his brother). He knew if he changed this one thing his whole life would be different. No longer a bumbler and pathetic. He’d be IT. So with a guaranteed 22-week commitment, a jolt of lightning granted him but not network executives (who cancelled the show after a few episodes) their wish.
In Summerhouseã romance writer Jude Devereaux gives three women the opportunity to pick any point in time to return to and correct past regrets. The twists – once the past is changed they’re brought back to the future. Without knowing exactly how things turn out they’re given three choices – return to their old life, take their new life with no memory of their first choices, or take their new life with full memory of their previous life. With three women you know they each made a different choice. Duh.
Cute, right? But in the glare of daylight, backaches, and crows’ feet – Should regrets be kept in the past or brought into our future?
No matter how successful we become. How full our life has been. How deep we have loved and been loved. We all want to go back and … get the (person, deal, career) that got away. Hindsight is always better than foresight. And time never ages that moment pass true bliss. So we all wonder – “what if?” (and if someone says they don’t, they’re lying, more to them self than you.)
“What if … ???”
“What if … I’d asked Jane or Sue to the prom?”
“What if … I’d smiled back when that cute guy looked my way?”
“What if … I hadn’t been late for that interview?”
“What if … I’d moved to New York when I was younger?”
“What if … I wasn’t always afraid?”
“What if … I’d spent more time with my grandma?”
“What if … I had fought harder against my rapist?
“What if … I hadn’t taken that last drink?”
“What if … ???”
They’re not all easy choices of lightness or cream. Some bring the pain of remembrance. Some are just a pain.
And if you could go back, how would you pick? Most of us have more than a few regrets.
If I could go back it would be to college, the night before HIS graduation. Full lips and brash hips with no backup experience, after countless hours of laughter, friendship, and confessions HE and I had “that moment”.
And you know what happened, or didn’t happen. No night has ever been that perfect (in my mind) since. No moment has brought such a sad sweet smile to my lips. Any moments shared since then have never changed my life the way I’ve imagined that one would. But if I got that night back, it has to be asked, what else would change?
Most of us don’t want a total life revision, just a tweak, tug, twist or two. We may want the new wife/husband, but we don’t want to give up the job, house, and/or kids.
You say you’d give up that sorry tailed job in a second – what about the friends you’ve made at work. Or the people you’ve passed? No friends. Could care less about that brush encounter? Would the other person think it that irrelevant?
Maybe the smile you don’t remember made that lady so happy, She aced her interview, and is now on the company fast track. Maybe the pat on your buddy Tom’s back was just what he needed after his mom died. Maybe being a designated driver kept the cheer in Christmas for more people than you know.
Repercussions, known and unknown, are like pebbles skipping through a pond. Our lives intertwine, intersect, hop over, and sink. So who are we to play God with our and others’ lives.
So knowing this, if I had the chance, would I really go back to that night?
Hell yes. Lord knows it probably won’t live up to the dream, but I’m not worried. I’m taking back all the wisdom and wiseass pride I have justly earned. Minus gray hairs and #x3 pounds I deserve but don’t want. Keeping a few wrinkles – they’re badges.
And since I’m writing this story I’d chose the Devereaux path. Which of the three choices I’d make I don’t know. I don’t care.
Relieved regrets.
Give me my night. My one night. Everybody else is on their own.
