Now and then I entertain the thought of recreating one day of my life. If I could relive a day, which one would I choose? And why? I suppose, if given the chance, most of us would opt a major moment where a crucial decision was made. I don’t think that would be a wise use of the recaptured day. Not for me, anyway. Altering that one-day may change my life in an unfavorable way, even if seemingly better in retrospect. Sure, there have been many instances where I’ve used the "would have", "could have," and "should have" expressions. I didn’t, and I’ve concluded I don’t want to.

People usually believe that if given a second chance, they’d absolutely do the smart thing. I don’t think that’s necessarily true. If we’ve messed up the first time around, what makes us think we’d get it right the second time?

As teenagers, how many of us waited until the last few days to research a term paper assigned at the beginning of the course? We all have. Now, how many of us swore we’d never wait until the last minute again? Most of us have. Finally, how many of us actually got an early start on subsequent papers? A small percentage of us have. The remainder of us continued to stay up typing all night to meet that next day deadline. Remember?

Let’s talk about marriage. Half of all married couples get divorced these days. People weren’t happier years ago; we just expect a heck of a lot more from a spouse nowadays. Second marriages aren’t necessarily pure bliss; they simply entail a new set of problems. Once they become "peakably" annoying, it’s time to head for the hills. Third and fourth marriages are repeats of the first and second. This is another example where the second (third or fourth) decision isn’t any more prudent than the original.

My third example is humorously undeniable. How about when we’re really starving and go to a buffet and eat everything in sight. We all know what happens next: WE VOW TO NEVER EAT THAT MUCH AGAIN. The guilty parties profess confessions of third servings of lasagna and second pieces of apple pie as huge mistakes. We’ll know better the next time and keep ourselves under control. It’s a noble gesture. Okay folks, what really occurs next time we go to that buffet? I’ll tell you what you already know as gospel. We are again starving. The previous incident is completely forgotten as we go to town like there’s no tomorrow. An hour later we’re popping antacids on the couch, each wondering, "What have I done", as we curse that hot fudge sundae for seducing us into submission.

I hope I proved my point that we do get to relive times of our lives over again. We continue to make unfavorable choices or downright devastating decisions; after all, we’re only human. I’ve concluded, after much pondering, which day over the course of my life I’d choose to recapture if given the chance.

The day embroidered in my mind occurred during June of 1987; I was nineteen years old. My parents had sold our home and we were to move out that afternoon. I ran down to the dock and cried. I can picture myself sitting on the dock that my father rebuilt when I was fourteen years old. It was my special safe haven while growing up. That day, I reflected upon all the quiet time I spent on that dock; it’s where I wrote my very first poem. The sturdy wooden structure became an inanimate extension of myself and I had to leave it behind. Immediately before I took the final step off that unforgettable landmark, I carved my initials into it. If I couldn’t remain on the dock timelessly, my initials would; I felt immortalized somehow.

So, you see, it’s not a critical decision or radical phenomenon I would redo if offered the opportunity. Rather, it’s the day I experienced an emotional retreat and bonded with myself, for better or for worse. To this day, thirteen years later, I joyfully remember my passionate determination while carving those initials; the memory still causes me to smile.