Hind-Sight

In the early days, the 'what if's' torment us as much as the event itself. We think, rethink, and over think. What if there was some small thing we could have done different that would have changed the out come. It is common now, for us to play this game. But to do so will only make our grief deeper if that is possible. We held in our hands the ability to prevent something and did nothing? Is this a truth that fills us with guilt, sorrow and remorse? Does it eat away at our souls as it breaks our hearts? Yes and no.

On the night I found Tim, cold and lifeless, my mind could not get away from these questions. What could I have done to change this? He had not slept nor ate in four days. If I had stayed up with him that night, would he still be here? If I had gone to his room sooner, could I have saved him? 'What if" tormented like all the demons from hell. The last 'what if': If I had followed my first instinct the day he introduced me to that person, the one who ultimately caused his demise, would he be here now?

We spend our years providing for, loving, protecting our children. When they get old enough, we try to step away, not interfere in how they live their lives. Even when they come to us with adult problems, we cushion what we say. It is how they learn to stand on their own for we figure we will not always be there to protect them. There were many times over the last 7 years that I was asked to not say or do anything for it would only make matters worse. I respected those wishes. So I remained silent at the things I saw and heard. That was hard to do but as a parent you have to allow your children to live their own lives or risk losing them. I lost Tim anyway so hind-sight says I should have stood my ground. Hind-sight is a false sight for it only shows you these things after the event has occurred.

Over these long, terrible months I have come to realize many things. Yes, my first instinct when meeting this person was a true instinct, but the ending could not have been predicted. And yes, maybe I could have saved him, at that time. But what about later as things got worse? Then I would still have those same questions and he would have suffered longer. If it happened later, it might have been someone else who found him, like a little boy who adored his daddy. I am not sorry it was me, it could have been so much worse. That I honored his wishes over the years was probably the right thing too. Otherwise, we may have become in-strangled (right word?) and I would not have had him with me those last three months.

Second guessing ourselves, is just that, guessing. We will never know so we torment ourselves. I am slowly letting these thoughts go for they serve no purpose but to make an already desperate life, worse. There is always worse. Hard to believe, but true. Our imagination alone can come up with things so terrible, we tremble. We borrow trouble before trouble comes so live through the sorrow twice instead of once. It is human nature but it is not printed in stone or our DNA. I fear losing another and am trying to learn to let that fear go. It may happen or I may go first. Worrying only makes life that much harder over something we cannot predict nor prevent. It is hard to accept that we could not save the one we loved, the one who loved us, the ones we protected all of our lives.