In Another Life

In another Life, another Timeline, Another point in space and Is, things worked out much differently. 

15 years ago, I was thrown from my horse and trampled.  In another life, he stepped a couple centimeters left and crushed my spine.  In that timeline, I now reside in a wheelchair and struggle to make it on my own.  Or, he finally threw me as we crossed the country blacktop road instead of over a pile of leaves, and my body didn't have an autumn carpet to cushion the blow of his 1500 pounds.  My lung was crushed and I died en route to the hospital that was 20 miles up the road.  In this reality, I do yoga to control occasional pain, but am strong enough to carry 50 pound bags of dog food and squirming toddlers without any real issue.

12 years ago, I was nearly raped, in front of several friends and a passed-out fiancee.  My father, who is mostly deaf and was in a deep sleep, somehow heard my screams and scared the bastard away.  In another life, he kept sleeping and my head was bashed into our concrete porch 1 more time.  I wound up in a coma, with my loved ones forced to watch me breath through a respirator for years on end. 

10 years ago, a man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with decided that he didn't want to marry me.  I moved to Illinois for the summer and came back with a new sense of peace and resilience.  In another life, I hung around Texas pining after him and fell so deeply into despair that I never recovered. I was never able to form a meaningful connection with another person again. 

8 years ago, an 18 wheeler hit me as I sat at a stoplight on a busy road.  The angle and trajectory were absolutely perfect to cause me to spin around and go flying over traffic in the other direction (picture a bank shot in a game of pool).  In another life, I was crushed under his wheels, or pushed out into oncoming 50 mph traffic, to be smashed to bits.  In another life, when I landed and had a head on collision with that 4x4 truck, he blinked and didn't slow down before he hit me.  In a thousand different alternate realities, I never made it off that road alive. In this reality, I drove that car to work and was forcibly taken to the hospital, but they only found mild whiplash.  They asked me to stay up for 24 hours, and this cute guy came over to keep me company... and we've been married more than 7 years now.

3 or so years ago, I acted very selfishly, and caused my husband and all who believed in me a great deal of pain.  He has forgiven me, and we have since become the grateful parents of a wondrous boy who teaches us new things every day.  In another life, I never let myself fall to tempatation, and a great man was never damaged by my betrayal.  In another past, he left me. The pain of being alone was more than I could bear, and I never became much of anything,  especially not a mother to my beautiful 2 year old son.  Or maybe I left him, and am now remarried with stepchildren.  I can never forgive myself for the pain I caused to Ryan, and that guilt, the missing hole that should have been Ian and the haunting belief that I may have made a terrible mistake keeps me awake every night.  I hate myself for who I had to become to get to the place I thought I wanted to be.

2 years and 5 days ago, I gave birth to my son. He was born at 8:05, although his birth certificate says 8:06 because it took them a minute to get him breathing.  In another life, one that I don't even want to visit in my nightmares, the doctors and nurses didn't do some tiny necessary detail, and it took 5 minutes, or 10, or they never made it.  In that timeline, I doubt if I would be here today.

At every turn, I have chosen who I am going to become.

I may not always like myself, and I may not always believe I am in the "right" place, but the older I get, the more and more I believe that there is no right or wrong, or even is or is not, there is only what we perceive.

There are a hundred thousand other Heathers out there. Some are thinner than I am, some are happier, some are richer, and some live someplace that isn't so blasted hot.  But I cherish the one I have become. I like my life.  I like coming home to my son every afternoon.  I like curling up next to someone who loves me unconditionally every night.  I like waking up with a clear conscience.

Every decision, every turn has changed me.  I am more given to deep thought, occasional crying jags and cynicism than I would like to be. I have a short temper and become overwhelmed easily. I find myself looking out of open windows and thinking about who I used to be.  My husband once asked me what happened to her.  I am working on getting her back- the fierceness, the passion, the innocence. 

But, I couldn't have all that I have without having gone through all that I did.  I have the life I love because of the pain I have lived.  And for that, I am grateful.