Is there a day in your life that you would like to re-live? You can’t change the outcome. Maybe a day that was so spectacular that you wish you could live it again? Or a day that holds sweet memories for you? Or a day that you can’t remember now what really happened? It could be for any reason.
I don’t have an exact day, but I would like to re-live a summer day when I was a kid, between the ages of 6 and 8. I would love to experience again a long fun-filled day of summer vacation without a care in the world. I would want to be able to remember it afterwards. I always wonder what exactly I did during a full day at that age from the minute I woke up to when I hopped in bed that night.
My big brother, and only sibling, died at 25. I would go back to a day that we played basketball in the backyard and some Madden football on the SNES. Just to experience that again.
One more bonus, I’d get to see my childhood cat Anastasia again, who happened to die 3 months after my brother. Yeah that was a rough time in my life. I’ve come an incredibly long way in the 25 years since, but It would be interesting to reconnect to who I was before that.
If I can’t change the outcome, no. I’ve had some great days, of course. But none that wouldn’t have been better if I’d known what I know now. But of course that’s a sort of Groundhog Day topic, which isn’t the original question…
I can think of a few days that I would choose to relive or watch myself live them again. They were all as adults, as I was quite the angst-ridden kid, though I know inside there were lots of good days when I was a child. I just didn’t necessarily appreciate them at the time, and re-living them means still not appreciating the as I lived them.
Just one day, really, my wedding day, which was about as perfect as anyone could ask for. A few friends and family members (less than 50), a beautiful summer day under a tree in someone’s backyard. Perfect weather. Lots of laughter. Great music. The colors we chose, burgundy and white, came out nicely. I felt beautiful, which was no small achievement. The day ended with a lot of money. In fact, I think we hit the bank before the hotel.
Most importantly it was a long time coming. We’d been together four years, we’d been in love all those four, and the time was right. I remember feeling so at peace with my choice.
It’s one of the few days in my life that I remember being absolutely perfect.
My wedding day. Not because I’m being romantic, but simply because I barely remember it. We DIYed the whole thing and spent a lot of time and effort and money, for us, on the event and I just wish I had clearer memories of it.
I never know quite how to interpret this kind of hypothetical. I can’t change anything? So my body is making all the same movements I made before, my mouth is saying the exact same words as before, and I have no control over any of it? It sounds like an existential nightmare, regardless of how great the day was the first time around. Or maybe I have some element of will, and can decide what to do within certain limits, but SOMETHING stops me from doing anything that would alter the “outcome” of the day. How could I enjoy anything when my actions are under this kind of creepy external control?
My first date with my wife, which came at the end of a week where all normal rules were suspended. It was in college, during a month where we got food service, could go to a seminar, but had no classes and no grades. We went several mornings to Nahant to see the sunrise over the Atlantic. She was visiting a friend, and came along. I asked her to go ice skating, mostly as an excuse so she wouldn’t have to go see Yeomen of the Guard which her friend was playing violin in the orchestra. Somehow we fell in love, and when I took her to the bus station at 1 am for her to go back to Philadelphia everything was changed.
That was 51 years ago, and we’re still in love. And it meets the requirement to not change a thing.
OK, I can’t change anything, but I get to remember it, right?
So – I don’t know which day it would be exactly. But some day, when I was between 3 and 4 years old, that meets the following requirements: My grandmother still alive and visiting us. The Cat Who Raised Baby Me also still alive. And a day when I spent a while playing under the lilac bush next to the front porch.
I know I loved to play there. I can’t remember what I played there; and I wish that I could. I’d also like to know more about how my mind worked then.
I’d get to see my grandmother; I know I loved her, but that’s about all that I remember of her. I remember my grandfathers, who lived a good bit longer; but I’d get to see them too. I’d get to be with that cat, who also I barely remember except for loving her. For a sizeable bonus, I’d get to see my parents, both of whom have been gone for years though not nearly as long as the grandmother and the cat.
For that matter, I’d get to see the house I grew up in. I miss that house.