The epiphany is this: I don’t want to live in IF-Land. I don’t even want to visit very often.
There’s no peace there.
Just more ifs.
If I had slept in this morning instead of driving in the dark to play basketball at an hour that no longer resonates with my brain, in shoes I had to wipe the dust off, with men who were former colleagues and men who were former students, then…
then I wouldn’t have crumpled with the ball in mid-jump-stop on the left wing with my knee buckled somewhere beneath me after first shifting unnaturally right and then left.
I’d still be sleeping.
But if I wasn’t clinging to a pair of crutches, gimping around the house like a one-legged rabbit and rubbing my arm pits raw, I wouldn’t have known how capable my seven year old was at preparing eggs from first crack to the salt and pepper on the plate.
I wouldn’t have known that playing UNO Attack at the table works just as well as the floor.
I wouldn’t have known I could trust my daughter to walk her brother from the parking lot in to preschool–alone…I wouldn’t have known that’d he’d let her. I wouldn’t have known she would tap his teacher on the shoulder and explain that he needed help handing out his valentines. I wouldn’t have known…
But I know now.