IF I COULD GO BACK

I suppose it happens to all of us.

We simply are incapable of knowing.

Until we trade places.

Until we are no longer the child.

Until we become the parent of the child.

Perhaps then we see the truth of how we were.

When I consider my own children,

I wonder why they do not ask:

How was it when you were a child?

How did you meet?

Did you ever doubt yourself?

Were you ever afraid?

If I could go back,

I would ask to hear the stories

and about falling in love.

If I could go back,

I would ask, What was it like

when you were me?

And I would listen more.

If I could go back,

I would listen to their lives

before I was me.

Gary