This morning I was trying to think of a new subject for a post. After about an hour of trying to think of something, of having many subjects going around in my head, I thought about a post about the ‘What Ifs’ of life. I may do that one some day, but as I was pondering just what those ‘what ifs’ would be, I thought about my second son, Jamie. I wondered ‘what if’ he had been born differently. ‘What if’ he didn’t have a disability. So many ‘what ifs’ when I think about him.
I try most of the time to NOT think about the ‘what ifs’ when it comes to him as it can be too painful. I absolutely love him as he is, of course, that is not at question. BUT, as a parent, I can’t help but wonder…
What if he had not had to be revived when he was born. What if he had not had those moments when his heart stopped and he was without oxygen. What if they had just done a c-section instead of making me have this 10 pound baby naturally.
I wonder often what he would be doing. What college would he have gone to? Or IF he would have gone to college. What would his major been? He is very good with his computer. I know he can draw as well as his other artistic siblings. He loves to take pictures. Would he do any of that? Would there have been some other thing he would have done, would have excelled at?
What about girlfriends? Who would have they been? Would he be married? What about the children he will never have, the grandchildren I will never hold? My heart aches when I think about it.
He doesn’t drive. He goes nowhere alone. He is always supervised. What is that like for him? How does that make him feel?
Jamie can talk. He can answer questions, mostly yes and no ones, some others. BUT I have never had a ‘real’ conversation with my 25 year old son. Ever. In 25 years. Not one. I want to ask him what he thinks, likes, feels. Why does he cry? What makes him sad? What does HE want to do in the future? Where does he want to live? I want to know my son just like I know my other three children. I want to sit and talk about the news, or the weather, or politics or what he thinks about or worries about. What makes him happy? What makes him laugh? I want to argue with him like parents and children sometimes, do. I want to know his thoughts and feelings about everything! Or anything. Or talk about nothing in particular. This is the ONE conversation I long to have.
The one I can’t think about too much.
The one that will never happen.
Picture Jamie took of himself.