Missed opportunities

Ever missed an opportunity you can't get back?

I once sat at the dinner table with my parents anxiously awaiting an impending lunar eclipse. I was a total geek as a kid (still am) and LOVED all things to do with space. I memorized constellation patterns and spent hours lying on my back on the trampoline testing myself. My future goals included 1) having my very own car, 2) living at the beach, 3) having a pig (I've since completely scratched that one off my list), 4) having straight hair (don't want that anymore either), and 5) being an astronaut.

Sadly, my dreams of a career with NASA completely disolved when I realized how much math was required. But at the age of 9, I was still deep in dreams of floating in space, which is exactly why I was so excited about that eclipse. I'd had the opportunity to share information about it with my 3rd grade class and had a telescope set up in the front yard ready for action - ready to take mental notes to share with my teacher the next day. And as the minutes ticked more closely to "lift off", there I remained at the kitchen table.

It seems my mom and I were in a battle of the wills - and her lethal weapon of choice was....green beans.

I'd been duly warned (complete with glaring stare and pointing finger) that I couldn't get up from the table until I'd cleaned my plate, including the green beans. And I HATED greenbeans! They were slimey and felt gross in my mouth, tasted old, and most importantly, they were GREEN. The only green thing I ate at that time was green jello, and even that was a stretch.

I couldn't eat the green beans, therefore I couldn't get up from the table, which meant I couldn't watch the eclipse. I was in complete hell. I wanted so desperately to see that eclipse with my own eyes - I'd only ever seen pictures in a book! But I also wanted desperately not to swallow those green beans! As an effort to encourage me (though I took it as a taunt), my dad would go outside and then come back into the kitchen every few minutes to report on the happenings in the night sky.

When I could stand it no longer, I shoved spoonfuls of green beans into my mouth, swallowing more than chewing, in hopes of avoiding the taste, and quickly shoved my chair from the table. I ran outside to see the eclipse, which was already in progress.

I didn't miss it entirely, but I'd missed enough of its' beginning to hurt my feelings. I felt like I'd missed something I would never see again.

In some ways, the way I felt at 9 years old is similar to how I'm feeling after this miscarriage, though with the miscarriage I missed the ending rather than beginning. I feel like I've missed a plain/train/automobile that may never come around again. It feels as if an opportunity has disappeared.

I don't know why I feel that way. I just do.

I hear all the time that these things "happen for a reason" and "you've got to empty your hands of the past in order to accept your gifts of the future". And these are true, I'm sure. But in the present, you just never know. There are no guarantees.

My nearly-missed-eclipse evening did however result in one lifetime guarantee - my mother never made me eat another green bean. Apparently cleaning up puked green beans is no fun.