its been a good life, with more than a few bumps and heavy winds along the way, but good nonetheless. Looking back with that damned Yankee common sense and logic, I can see that it's probably a better life, in many ways, than it could have been. I'm in a place-- both physically and emotionally-- that works, and that's not bad. Im not ungrateful nor am I unmindful of that, and of the other side of the coin, possibility wise.
We don't always get what we want, and sometimes what we want is not what we should have, like the kid who wants to eat dessert instead of veggies all the time. But sometimes, like now, when the weather is cold and dreary and looks to be that way on into August, the mood dips a bit lower than usual and all those maybes and regrets start to surface.
"What would have happened if..." is a scary place to go, and I try not to go there more than I can help. But as an exercise in emotional logistics, it has a certain grim fascination. Whatever paths you take, no matter if you chose them or they were chosen for you, have no way back. The life lived is the life experienced, and you can only take one road.