A Life Not Chosen
We live with a life that is infinite—there is an ending—not only for ourselves, but for those we love as well. We wander through life with a hindsight of 20/20 only to realize that there’s no manual and the choices we make suddenly turns into the mistakes we made. There’s no chance for a do over. We can’t go back and change the things we wish we had never done. Without realizing it, our regrets become the very thing that defines us.
As John sat and listened to his counselor speak about the process of college applications, he couldn’t help and think of what awaited him in the future. He was fascinated with the idea of being successful and apart of the most thriving companies. He’d sit in his backyard, during the night, and look up the stars, dreaming of his hopes and goals. Though John was unsure of what college he wanted to attend, he knew he wanted to major in architecture. What mattered to him the most, however, was making his mother proud. She was a single mother who raised and taught John right from wrong; the least he wanted to do for her was to attend and pay for college on his own, all from his hard work.
It was then time for John to fill out his FAFSA, and so, he did. But, as he tried to enter his social security number, the system had denied him access to register an account. John was confused as to why he couldn’t fill out his FAFSA, whereas, other students could. He tried and tried to register for a FAFSA, but with every try, came with the same message: I’m sorry, but this social security number is not valid. Please try again.
After multiple tries, John became frustrated and went to confront with his mother. It was only until then, the life John had would be turned upside down in a matter of seconds.
Mom, I tried to fill out my FAFSA, but it keeps denying it . . . I don’t know what to do.
He says while sitting down.
His mother, eyes filled with regret, said nothing. She pressed the heels of her feet into the floor, unsure of what to say . . . of how to respond. She knew she would have to tell him one day, but she didn’t realize that, that day would be Today. Finally, she sat next to John, and told him the truth.
Honey . . . I don’t know how to tell you this...You weren’t born here. I’m sorry for taking such a long time to tell you this - I . . . I didn’t know how to go about it.
She says weakly.
To say John was shocked would be an understatement. His heart sank at that moment and the cold emptiness inside suffocated him as if he went through life only for it to be taken away. He wanted to yell at his mother . . . hate his mother . . . ask her why she had taken so long to tell him. But he couldn’t. He could never hate his mother.
John took a deep breath and said, It’s okay mom. It’s not your fault. Even if I’m not a citizen, I promise you that I’ll work hard and make you proud.
Maybe it wasn’t what he expected, but life comes with a lot of twists and turns. John knew that working hard would pay off someday . . . and that’s exactly what he did. Each day, John would do research on scholarships, finding out which ones he could apply to. But, there was no luck. Every scholarship he found came with a price: having citizenship. As he saw everyone around him applying for scholarships, he couldn’t help but feel an internal pain, deep inside his heart. He tried and continued to look for scholarships, but the voices in his head that constantly pestered him eventually consumed him. Just give up, they’d say. You can’t pay for college anyway, they’d say. The goals and dreams he once had laid out were now replaced with anger and self resentment. He was angry at himself . . . at life. But who would he blame? There was no one to blame but himself. It was only until he couldn’t handle it anymore, he decided to drop out of school. His mother was aware of the situation and became disappointed at his choice. But, she stood in silence, defeated, wishing she could help and support him.
With time, John began to hang out with the wrong crowd and do drugs. There was an empty feeling . . . a loss of interest in what he loved to do. He no longer cared for his future or himself; all he cared was to escape life because to him, it didn’t matter anymore. His mother felt helpless; she tried to talk to him, but he only became more reckless and ignored her. As months passed, John continued to take drugs as a way out and without realizing it, he fell deeper and deeper into a hole until it suffocated him.
One day, John’s mother was nowhere to be seen. He quickly goes into her room and panics at what he saw. There she was, lying in bed, looking weak as if she had lost some weight. Her skin had turned a pale, opalescent color while her hair stuck to her forehead. Her head was laid back, and all she saw was the dull roof.
Mom, what . . . what’s going on?
John asks.
She turns to see John with tears staining her cheeks and says, Honey, I’ve been diagnosed with terminal cancer. I . . . didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to worry.
John didn’t know how to react. He stood in shock, not believing at what he just heard. And, finally, he broke down. He fell to his knees, cried out, apologized, wishing he could take back all his mistakes. But, his mother laid there, caressing his hair . . . and with one last breath, she tells him,
Keep trying. Keep fighting for your dreams. I love you.
And with that, she slipped away into her endless sleep. She was gone. John couldn’t hold the heartbreak any longer and fell to the floor in a disheveled heap as his grief poured out in a flood of uncontrollable tears. The one person he loved was gone . . . and he didn’t know what to do. As months past, the grief John felt did not go away. He was closed off and only stayed in his home, wishing that each day would pass as quickly as his mother did. At times, he would be lost in thought, staring at the wall unblinkingly. He was almost robot-like; emotionless and dull. John kept trying . . . for his mother’s sake . . . but he just couldn’t. He didn’t have the strength to continue on. He looked into the mirror for the first in several months and noticed how much weight he had lost. The dark rings under his eyes were visible while his hair looked unkempt and ruffled.
I’m sorry for not keeping my promise.
He silently says.
And he was gone.
. . .