Dreams are weird things. Memories are weird things. But the memories of dreams of yesterday are not only weird, they haunt.
“We must get away from shadows that will never let us be. Tomorrow to Calais for a ship across the sea. Hurry Cosette, say no more. Tomorrow we’ll away. Hurry Cosette; it’s time to shut a door and live another day.” ~ Les Miserables
Buried deep within the recesses of my hard drive, in an archive of an archive of an archive, there is a file that was written with Microsoft Word back when it only had a few more features than a typewriter. It is my life plan that I wrote my senior year of high school. I should have know better. It has chance quite a bit since then. Changed isn’t the proper term. Been totally and completely destroyed and replaced a few times is more like it.
That was seven years ago. Back then, I was to have been married and running a vigorous electrical company. Six years ago, I was to be finishing law school right now. Five years ago, I had decided to go to a different law school, and would have still be in it, and engaged. Not to some random person, but I “knew” who it was going to be. Three years ago, I abandoned the thought of law school, and opted instead for going straight for a PhD. At no time did I think I would be sitting out the summer of 2010 praying that I found a job before the money I had saved in grad school ran out.
“Why are entire years strewn on the cutting room floor of memory as single frames of one magic night forever flicker in close up on the 3-D IMAX of my mind.” ~ Rent
The last 72 hours has seen a parade of memories flowing through my mind. There was a time when my life was falling into place. All the pieces of my plan were there, they just had to be put together. But the problem was, it was my plan, not God’s plan. I was about to graduate from GMC, the girl I had been interested in for over a year had finally agreed to have coffee with me, and life was looking good.
We had coffee that day, and she told me about the new, wonderful guy she had started dating the day before. In the following weeks, my circle of close-knit friends began to split apart. To get over it, I buried myself in a campaign. From graduation day to Election Day, I breathed, ate, and lived the fight for the Georgia 8th. We lost. We lost by 1752 votes, or about one percentage point.
I recovered and moved on. I went on to intern at the capitol. My major plans changed again. I was told it would be stupid for me to go to law school (from someone how had just graduated law school…) and decided instead for a master’s degree.
So, what brought up this walk down memory lane? Sunday afternoon. I attended the Peach Pundit Roadshow and a meet-and-greet for a man I first met and came to respect during that capitol internship. He was a member of the committee I for which I worked and was chairman of one of the subcommittees. Rep. Scott is now a candidate for the same GA-8th. I was introduced around as having worked for Collins four years prior. I felt like one of the members of the light brigade. That started the gears of memory turning. How much I loved the game, even though I’ve never actually experienced the happy side of election day.
My old babysitter
was there, telling stories from my childhood. (Yes, I really did call my neighbor, her dad, “Papa Fish-Fish”.) Then all my memories started swarming back. To top it off, as the evening was winding to a close, and we were walking to our cars, I looked up to see a familiar face walking towards the door, and me. She had the hair the color of setting sun, a smile that lit the late-night darkness, and as always, the voice of an angel.
That was it. My mind was lost in the land of what ifs. It’s been there ever since. That’s why I’m writing this. Maybe it with snap my mind out of thinking about:
- What if I had gotten the duet I wanted instead of the solo I ended up with?
- What if I had asked her out the week before?
- What if I could have recruited 10 more volunteers to work for 8 more hours?
- What if we had actually won that election?
- What if 50 something other Republicans had won that fateful night in 2006?
- What if I had went on to law school?
- What if I had taken that job in Virgina three years ago? Would I have won that race?
- What if I had taken that job in Atlanta two years ago?
I know these are questions without answers. But, they have been haunting me ever since that drive home Sunday night. I’ve given up on a plan. Now, I just wait and see what God does.