My father was the first to emigrate to the States. Shortly after his departure I was told my mother and I would be going to. The idea of leaving behind my life as I knew it, and going to what seemed like another planet made me so sick I started popping out red bumps all over my body in rebellion. Well actually, I came down with chicken pox. I was able to delay our trip a couple of weeks this way and managed to celebrate one more birthday in the place I knew as home.
My friends and classmates soon heard that I would be leaving and going to what all the adults seemed to think of as "a better place." We children didn't see it that way. My friends had many reassuring stories to tell me about America. The one I remember best was about the unusual security measures in the USA - upon stepping out of your home you must show your documents to armed soldier-like security guards. You are required to tell them where you are going and when you will be returning, and if you don't get back to your home within that time frame, you are shot with rifles. I tried to explain this to my mother but she didn't seem to take me seriously. It was all a joke to her! She was seriously willing to give up our freedom to some American soldier just to go live in America. Why?!?!
My relatives didn't make me feel any better either. My grandmother was so shocked we were leaving that she decided to steal our passports and hide our plane tickets. My mom tried everything to get those essentials back, but it was no use. I realized that I would never see my father again if I stayed in my safe headquarters. If I wanted to be with my daddy again, I would have to face the dangers and rifles of America. So I managed to convince my grandma to return our passports and tickets and just a few days later we were at the airport. All of our family and friends were there. Even my aunt from Italy had come to say goodbye and send us away. The tears that were shed from our eyes that day and the collective pain that was felt among cannot be described in words. My grandmother was frozen stiff as she watched us walk away into the "ticketed passengers only" area. And while I didn't black out, I can't remember anything else from that moment.
I've grown to appreciate my strange defense mechanism - my brain refuses to save and store the most painful moments of my life. These scenes are somehow discarded from my brain's file cabinet, and they can't be found even in the recycle bin. But it's times like these I wish I had a memory of those horrible occasions, one of which is that long trip to America and that first day after entering the land of the free.
I can assure you I found no armed security guards in front of our house, and there wasn't a curfew of any kind in effect. But believe me, this didn't make me feel any better or any safer. The only place I could feel good and safe was at home. And I did NOT feel at home.
11.7.08
If I Only Knew Then...
...What I know now....
I've heard that expression far too many times and it has almost always come out of the mouth of some 90-year old. It's like the old people's motto, and they repeat it like a broken record. Now that I think about it, "If I Only Knew Then What I Know Now" would be a pretty cool name for a retirement home. But that's not the point....
The point is...I learned the very cruel truth of this saying much too early in life. At only 25 years old, I find myself thinking the same thing almost every day. The English language (or at least the dictionary) does not contain a word which can completely express the pain and regret one feels when he/she comes to realize this cold and nasty truth. And as I think of all the ways my life could be different right now if I had known all the things I know now, I get a feeling that it may not be too late to impact the life of another person who may be headed down the same path.
I don't know and I will never know whether my life would be better or worse right now, if I could go back and make the changes I wish I could. I will never know whether those decisions were pure ignorance or pure destiny. Reality is sometimes deceiving. Maybe because each of us perceives it differently. Or maybe because we aren't really seeing the real reality of things. One thing is for sure though - even if I could go back and change my past, or even little snippets of it, what I imagine the outcome would be is far from the actual reality.
Sometimes our life ends up going down a road we didn't consciously choose. Sometimes we make huge decisions much too quickly and underestimate the consequences of our actions. And far too many times we either make the decisions for the wrong reasons, or we let the wrong reasons make our decisions. There isn't a person on this planet who doesn't have at least one regret, and who wouldn't go back in time to undo, redo, or DO something in their life. And the harsh reality is this - would it really change anything?!
I've heard that expression far too many times and it has almost always come out of the mouth of some 90-year old. It's like the old people's motto, and they repeat it like a broken record. Now that I think about it, "If I Only Knew Then What I Know Now" would be a pretty cool name for a retirement home. But that's not the point....
The point is...I learned the very cruel truth of this saying much too early in life. At only 25 years old, I find myself thinking the same thing almost every day. The English language (or at least the dictionary) does not contain a word which can completely express the pain and regret one feels when he/she comes to realize this cold and nasty truth. And as I think of all the ways my life could be different right now if I had known all the things I know now, I get a feeling that it may not be too late to impact the life of another person who may be headed down the same path.
I don't know and I will never know whether my life would be better or worse right now, if I could go back and make the changes I wish I could. I will never know whether those decisions were pure ignorance or pure destiny. Reality is sometimes deceiving. Maybe because each of us perceives it differently. Or maybe because we aren't really seeing the real reality of things. One thing is for sure though - even if I could go back and change my past, or even little snippets of it, what I imagine the outcome would be is far from the actual reality.
Sometimes our life ends up going down a road we didn't consciously choose. Sometimes we make huge decisions much too quickly and underestimate the consequences of our actions. And far too many times we either make the decisions for the wrong reasons, or we let the wrong reasons make our decisions. There isn't a person on this planet who doesn't have at least one regret, and who wouldn't go back in time to undo, redo, or DO something in their life. And the harsh reality is this - would it really change anything?!
The Introduction
So I've finally decided to give this whole blog thing a try. I always kind of thought blogging was for losers who have nothing else to do in their spare time...and now as it turns out, I am a lose who has so much spare time I can't find anything more exciting to do than OMG ... BLOG!!!!
I've always kind of secretly wanted to become a writer, and not just because typing is one of my many fetishes (because I do it well and fast unlike other things that should be fetishes) but also because I've had so many ideas for books and even movies, but every time I'd sit down to start writing I'd either get bored or not know what to write. Since every plot idea that ever came to mind had a beginning and a climax but somehow never an end or conclusion, I found it kind of pointless to go on and on writing endlessly only to find that there would be no end.
Well today as I accidentally came across this free blogging page, I thought "what a great idea!" I can keep writing and writing and writing without an end because the final sentence here will only be the beginning of the next blog posting. How wonderful!!! And then I got an even better idea...why not consider today to be an end, and write my blogs as stories of the past? I need to "end" my life as I know it and start something new, so this would be the perfect opportunity to make a Sex in the City type of diary, but instead of using my boring present existence which would create only blank postings, I'm going to write about my whole life before I became the desperate housewife I am today.
I've always kind of secretly wanted to become a writer, and not just because typing is one of my many fetishes (because I do it well and fast unlike other things that should be fetishes) but also because I've had so many ideas for books and even movies, but every time I'd sit down to start writing I'd either get bored or not know what to write. Since every plot idea that ever came to mind had a beginning and a climax but somehow never an end or conclusion, I found it kind of pointless to go on and on writing endlessly only to find that there would be no end.
Well today as I accidentally came across this free blogging page, I thought "what a great idea!" I can keep writing and writing and writing without an end because the final sentence here will only be the beginning of the next blog posting. How wonderful!!! And then I got an even better idea...why not consider today to be an end, and write my blogs as stories of the past? I need to "end" my life as I know it and start something new, so this would be the perfect opportunity to make a Sex in the City type of diary, but instead of using my boring present existence which would create only blank postings, I'm going to write about my whole life before I became the desperate housewife I am today.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)