06.27.07
If You Could Do It All Over Again….
I had a 451 mile round trip today, which took me to a place I vowed I’d never go to again. But life has this funny way of making us eat our words, doesn’t it? I drove my car for this trip, since it gets nearly twice the gas mileage that my SUV does. My car has a 6-disc CD changer, so I just grabbed one of those loaded CD boxes, and away I went.
I was headed for Durham, NC, specifically to the hospital where Carol spent more than 80 days over seven hospitalizations, and for eight surgeries. When we’d left there, ten days before she died, I made the vow…”Never again. Never again”. That changed last Sunday night.
My great friend Ron had a pretty terrible accident that night. He’s a very fortunate man, and will be fine one day, doctors are convinced. And that’s marvelous news. Ron has been there with me and for me, in some of my happiest as well as some of my darkest days. A real friend. He’s my scuba diving buddy and my Harley riding buddy too. A quiet man, who listens and watches a whole lot more than he speaks. But often when he does have something to say, it’s powerful. And now it was my turn to be there for him, and with him, when his world had turned upside down. I must admit to being fairly “tight” as I drove north this morning. It hadn’t been a good week on my end either, frankly. My “baby daughter” (even though she’s 28 and married) had a fairly bad car accident herself just the day before Ron’s, and certain complications resulted from that. Other things had contributed to the general disquiet that I’d been feeling, but now, I must come back to the cartridge of CD’s that I loaded in my car this morning.
Have you ever heard the expression “They’re playing our song”? Do you have an “our song”? Carol and I had two…one Christian, and one secular. Some time back, I’d bought a Greatest Hits CD of a pop group that was my favorite back in my college days. Listening to it brought back some amazing memories; some good, some not so good. One of the songs was “our song”, at least the secular one. That was the main reason I’d bought it…it was the first song I ever sang to Carol, accompanied by my guitar, overlooking Biscayne Bay in Miami. A long time ago. When I shuffled through the available CD’s this morning, there it was, and so I listened to it, most of the songs, anyway. People who love music seem to associate songs with events and times of life, I think. So, those old songs from the ’70s took me back in time.
And then, I got to the hospital. From memories 30 years old, to memories much more recent. So much came back, of course; the parking garage, that long walkway, the elevators, the lobby, at times feeling like I’d been there last month, and at other times, like it had been a lifetime ago. As I was leaving, I asked Ron’s wife Brenda to take the elevator with me, up to the 7th floor; specifically to the 7700 unit, where Carol had spent over 80 of her last days. We made it as far as I needed to go, to the end of “her” hallway, and just looked down it. I’m one who needs to confront things, and once I do, I can deal with them better. And then, it was time to go.
I didn’t listen to any music driving home. It was a thinking time. We’re all the
same, aren’t we? All of us can look back over times of victory, and times of
defeat. I remembered my college days and how I’d felt that life could just never
be as busy or stressful as it was in finals weeks. And five years, one mortgage,
two kids and two car payments later, college life seemed like no more than a
kindergarten picnic! And the more I thought, the more I wondered…”What would
be different, if I had the chance to live it all over again?” I’ll bet you’ve thought
the same things. At the core, thoughts like these are exercises in futility, as we
can’t ever go back. Fittingly, Gloria Gaither seemed to sum it up best: “Yester-
day’s gone and tomorrow may never come. But we have this moment, today.”
Ah…yes. Maybe it isn’t so futile after all. Maybe we can look over the past and
learn, and let life teach us in the here and now. And, if God grants us a number
of “nows”, then we can build from the past and with His help, become better in
every way. We all probably have past glories that we’d love to relive. It’s why
70 year-old men still have several “The Few, The Proud, The Marines” stickers
on their car. It serves to remind them, and others, that they were once young,
fit, trained and fearless soldiers. On the flip side, I’d think we all also have times
that we’d like to re-do. We don’t flaunt these. They’re the private, and often
haunting memories of past failures. So, here’s the question: If you could do it
all over again, what would you change? When my Dad was alone in the nursing
home, and Mom was up in Heaven, I asked Dad if he ever wished he was young
again. At first, he said No. And after some time, he said “If I could have the
wisdom and experience that I had at 50, maybe I’d like to be able to relive my
first 40 years.” Powerful, that. I thought a lot on the wisdom of those words
today. That’s how it was with my Dad. Like Ron, he often just sat and watched,
and listened. But when he spoke, he could say some memorable things.
Do you remember George Burns, the comedian/actor/singer? Something about
him intrigued me. Maybe it was that he lived to be 100, or maybe it was that
his first hit record was recorded when he was 84. He had a distinctive voice,
and I recall the first time I heard his smash hit on the radio, entitled “I Wish I
was Eighteen Again”. Some time afterwards, I saw that he was to appear on a
TV variety show, and I watched hoping that he’d sing that song. And sure
enough, I wasn’t disappointed. Out he came, a diminutive, frail little old man,
with a black tux that seemed way too big for him, those thick, round glasses,
the terrible toupee, and he sang that song. It was so poignant - his age
gave it a credibility that no 50 year-old man could ever have copied. “I’ll
never again turn the young ladies’ heads, Or go running off into the wind.
I’m three-quarters home from the start to the end, And I Wish I Was Eighteen
Again/ Oh I wish I was eighteen again, And going where I’ve never been. But
old folks, and old oaks, standing tall, just pretend; Oh I Wish I Was Eighteen
Again/ Time turns the pages, and life goes so fast; The years turn the dark
hair all gray. I talk to some young folks, but they don’t understand, The
words this old man’s got to say/ Now I wish I was eighteen again, And
going where I’ve never been. But old folks, and old oaks, standing tall,
just pretend; How I wish I was eighteen again”. Does any of this feel at
all familiar? As I drove down I-95 today, I wondered how Mr. Burns would
answer this from eternity…”If you could do it all over again, what would
be different the next time?”
I think the Apostle Paul gave us some indirect help on this. He wrote in
Philippians 3:13-14. “…But this one thing I do, forgetting those things that are
behind, and reaching forward unto the things that are before, I press toward the
mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” Forgetting things
that are past…to me, this means both our successes and our failures. Some
people in later years have been stalled, basking in successes more than half a
lifetime ago. But far more of us are probably stalled from past failures. We
can’t seem to do what God has chosen to do concerning our sins and failures -
remember them no more. There they lurk, haunting us; with an enemy who
loves to bring them up and taunt us with them. And all the while, God is
blissfully unaware of them, as they’re covered by the blood of His Son. If
we had the chance, say, to again live the week leading up to this or that
failure, we’d sure do things a whole lot differently, wouldn’t we?
But, yesterday’s gone, isn’t it? And tomorrow may never come; but we
have THIS moment - right here and right now - today. And as the old
adage says, those who refuse to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.
If I could start life over again, yes…much would change. I know that if on
the day Carol and I stood before God and many witnesses and said “I Do”,
I’d learned that in less than 28 years I’d have to say goodbye to her, I would
have still run down the aisle to marry her. And, there are our children. Each
of them distinct and different, yet as a trio, they’re wonderfully complimentary.
I wouldn’t want any of that to change, except to have had the luxury of Carol
and I growing old together. But some things sure would have been done
differently. I would have traveled less, spent less time when home on hobbies,
and more time with four precious people who have moved on in various ways.
I’d love to have the chance to make the right decisions this time rather than
ones I did make. And yet, all of these combine to make each of us that individual
that we are. They form us, mold us, and when God steps in, they serve to make
us better people, less judgmental, possibly more cautious, occasionally more daring.
As I was nearing home this evening, it hit me. Not a single thing in my life
caught God by surprise. All of it was part of His plan, and each success and
failure has been used to mold me, at times break me, and make me anew.
Maybe even a new and improved model. I’m not what I might have been, but
I’m not what I will be one day. Yet each of us is exactly who God knew we’d
be, we’re where He ultimately decided to place us. And our personalities -
formed through the years of what is and has been, and not what might have
been - is just how He knew we’d be. I’d still love to go back to being eighteen
again, but only to be able to relive the years with any wisdom and experience
that life has imparted to me now. You were right, Dad.
Lessons lived should become lessons learned. Failures forge stronger
foundations. So let’s all - with God’s help, say Carpe Diem! Seize the day.
THIS day. It’s really all that we have, and all that we’re promised, down
here at least.
Press on…
Alan