If YOU Could Go Back In Time In Your Life...

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thekidd12

Baseball is a good thing.Always was,always will be
Apr 8, 2016
1,386
7,298
54
NC
Life is short! Write the girl a letter, Man! Express what you are feeling. God if you want to know anything-- most women LOVE a man who can express themselves. If it works GREAT! If not, you gave it your best shot. That's what I would do--of course I'm the kind of person who would love a letter.
Love a letter?

My children say "No one does that daddy!"

Hit them up on the gram or instachat or Myspacebook!

Letter Geesh!

By the way I really like letters as well.
 

Christine62

Well-Known Member
Nov 7, 2013
493
3,117
56
Oklahoma City
Love a letter?

My children say "No one does that daddy!"

Hit them up on the gram or instachat or Myspacebook!

Letter Geesh!

By the way I really like letters as well.
I used to write my kids letters (essays really) when they were younger--their friends would whine--I wish my mom would write me a letter--every person secretly wants their parents to express to them how much they love them and are proud of them they are.
 

Neesy

#1 fan (Annie Wilkes cousin) 1st cousin Mom's side
May 24, 2012
56,659
206,943
Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada
I'd go to 1986 when I graduated boot camp at RTC Great Lakes. I'd also get the see Stand by Me (and Top Gun) again in the theater for the first time. I'd also know all the right roads to take and low men to avoid for the next three decades.
Hi and welcome back - nice picture!
 

E.L.D

Active Member
Nov 6, 2017
38
194
Life is short! Write the girl a letter, Man! Express what you are feeling. God if you want to know anything-- most women LOVE a man who can express themselves. If it works GREAT! If not, you gave it your best shot. That's what I would do--of course I'm the kind of person who would love a letter.
Thank you, but I can't really write her a letter I'm with an amazing girl. I just wish we could go back, I miss being able to talk to her without it being awkward. She's one of the few people I can call my best friend.
 

doowopgirl

very avid fan
Aug 7, 2009
6,601
22,616
60
dublin ireland
doowopgirl I think that with the wisdom and or knowledge that comes with age that maybe a person would not do the same things over and over. The way I understood the scenario when you went back you carried all this with you and were not simply placed back to a "life altering" moment. But then again this is all hypothetical and I could be wrong.
doowopgirl I think that with the wisdom and or knowledge that comes with age that maybe a person would not do the same things over and over. The way I understood the scenario when you went back you carried all this with you and were not simply placed back to a "life altering" moment. But then again this is all hypothetical and I could be wrong.
I would like to think you are right I am just being cynical. I would like to tell my 16 year old self a thing or two. But I'm pretty sure I wouldn't listen.
 

thekidd12

Baseball is a good thing.Always was,always will be
Apr 8, 2016
1,386
7,298
54
NC
Well today is the three year anniversary of my father passing away. I don't care what the calendar and/or meteorologists say, December 4th is the longest day of the year.

I have finished the day each year doing the same thing: deer hunting on our farm around 500 yards from where the tombstone is. I go because that is what we did this time of year. Have not seen a deer on any of these days. Any other day the place is crawling with them.

All three days have been beautiful fall evenings with almost no wind. Just me and the squirrels.

Spent a long time this afternoon thinking about this thread. Still would go back to 2:45 December 4th 2014 and tell him how much I loved him. Also amended that some in my head to include a 911 call.

Ain't neither one happening.

Me and the squirrels think I should be allowed to though.
 

FlakeNoir

Original Kiwi© SKMB®
Moderator
Apr 11, 2006
41,413
161,592
New Zealand
Well today is the three year anniversary of my father passing away. I don't care what the calendar and/or meteorologists say, December 4th is the longest day of the year.

I have finished the day each year doing the same thing: deer hunting on our farm around 500 yards from where the tombstone is. I go because that is what we did this time of year. Have not seen a deer on any of these days. Any other day the place is crawling with them.

All three days have been beautiful fall evenings with almost no wind. Just me and the squirrels.

Spent a long time this afternoon thinking about this thread. Still would go back to 2:45 December 4th 2014 and tell him how much I loved him. Also amended that some in my head to include a 911 call.

Ain't neither one happening.

Me and the squirrels think I should be allowed to though.
(((Kidd)))
We share a day.... Your Dad, my Poppa. (two years ago today for me)
 

Spideyman

Uber Member
Jul 10, 2006
40,472
147,686
73
Just north of Duma Key
Well today is the three year anniversary of my father passing away. I don't care what the calendar and/or meteorologists say, December 4th is the longest day of the year.

I have finished the day each year doing the same thing: deer hunting on our farm around 500 yards from where the tombstone is. I go because that is what we did this time of year. Have not seen a deer on any of these days. Any other day the place is crawling with them.

All three days have been beautiful fall evenings with almost no wind. Just me and the squirrels.

Spent a long time this afternoon thinking about this thread. Still would go back to 2:45 December 4th 2014 and tell him how much I loved him. Also amended that some in my head to include a 911 call.

Ain't neither one happening.

Me and the squirrels think I should be allowed to though.
Holding you to inner peace. Will light a candle for your dad.
(((Kidd)))
 

thekidd12

Baseball is a good thing.Always was,always will be
Apr 8, 2016
1,386
7,298
54
NC
(((Kidd)))
We share a day.... Your Dad, my Poppa. (two years ago today for me)
Wish we didn't have that in common. My children called daddy Papa. That's how we spelled it on Christmas presents.

I know it happens to everyone as I have said. Just thought my experience fit in well with the theme of thread. Also late at night here, on longest day of year, when I posted. Seems like a lot of reflection goes on on December 4th for me.

Thanks for everyone who reads/comments on my venting. Got to go do some fencing today.

Have to hurry up, December 5th is a mighty short day.
 

do1you9love?

Happy to be here!
Feb 18, 2012
7,644
55,596
Virginia
Well today is the three year anniversary of my father passing away. I don't care what the calendar and/or meteorologists say, December 4th is the longest day of the year.

I have finished the day each year doing the same thing: deer hunting on our farm around 500 yards from where the tombstone is. I go because that is what we did this time of year. Have not seen a deer on any of these days. Any other day the place is crawling with them.

All three days have been beautiful fall evenings with almost no wind. Just me and the squirrels.

Spent a long time this afternoon thinking about this thread. Still would go back to 2:45 December 4th 2014 and tell him how much I loved him. Also amended that some in my head to include a 911 call.

Ain't neither one happening.

Me and the squirrels think I should be allowed to though.
(((Kidd)))
We share a day.... Your Dad, my Poppa. (two years ago today for me)
Anniversaries are hard. (((kidd and Flake)))
 

Christine62

Well-Known Member
Nov 7, 2013
493
3,117
56
Oklahoma City
Well today is the three year anniversary of my father passing away. I don't care what the calendar and/or meteorologists say, December 4th is the longest day of the year.

I have finished the day each year doing the same thing: deer hunting on our farm around 500 yards from where the tombstone is. I go because that is what we did this time of year. Have not seen a deer on any of these days. Any other day the place is crawling with them.

All three days have been beautiful fall evenings with almost no wind. Just me and the squirrels.

Spent a long time this afternoon thinking about this thread. Still would go back to 2:45 December 4th 2014 and tell him how much I loved him. Also amended that some in my head to include a 911 call.

Ain't neither one happening.

Me and the squirrels think I should be allowed to though.
What a beautiful post. Tell your father, perhaps he can hear you. I like to believe the veil is very thin between this world and the next. I like to think that our loved ones are actively with us, following us around. Seated in an empty chair. Walking along with us. Sitting in the passenger side of the car. Kinda like City of Angels except with relatives. They save us a thousand times a day from saying something stupid or passing into the next lane when a car is there in our blind spot. At least I hope so. I sure want to be very very busy being God's little helper when I go to the next world. Being there to protect my family would be the reward I would want.
 

Christine62

Well-Known Member
Nov 7, 2013
493
3,117
56
Oklahoma City
You know, I thought about this a lot when I read 11-22-63. And I think a lot comes with age and wisdom. When first was diagnosed with bipolar disorder after my first psychosis, I was pissed. I hated God for allowing this to happen to me and I hated everyone for treating me like a fat, balding, mental patient.

I decided to recreate myself and it happened again. Back in the hospital--same freaking psychosis. This time I started to deconstruct the incident a little--fearfully. Slowly, piece by piece, day by day, I figured out it was tiny little things that added up: too much caffeine, not enough sleep, too much stress.

By the time I had the third one, (because I ignored the red flags above) I was still getting a handle on it. Believe it or not, I had more control with the third psychosis. It was slower, I was detached like an outside observer looking in. I knew I was in psychosis and needed help.

Because of this, I have been able to avoid future incidents because I avoid coffee, treat sleep like medicine, take my meds and talk to friends and family if I am feeling too stressed. I am also brave enough to tell my story and help others because I am no longer afraid of the stigma.

So where in the beginning, I would have sold my soul not to have this happen to me, 20 years later, I am glad it did, because I am a stronger person and able to educate people that mental illness does not happen out of no where--it only happens when you are not paying attention.
 

Brittney

Well-Known Member
Apr 9, 2018
62
302
29
I would go back. And theres things i would change. and i would be sure to tell my pre teen self who had such self loathe that she is beautiful, that life will be ok. that you will be happy. that this is just a moment in time. to love and embrace who you are. and to avoid certain people because behind that door is a whole lot of hurt.
 
May 31, 2018
16
72
45
You know, it’s hard to say. I’d say my watershed moment (see what I did there?) was April 3, 1995. It was 13 days before the bomb was detonated in my city at the Alfred P Murrah Feseral Building. At the time, I had a new infant son, Brendan, and a wife with a child of her own, Eric (4), from a previous marriage. I was leading to be a dad. I had a wonderful example to learn from in my own father, and I think I was getting a good grip on the job.
I was on night school at the Oklahoma County Sheriffs Dept at the time, and working 2 private security jobs from 11p-7a, and the other from 7a-3p tonsupport my little family. We weren’t doing very well, but we were eating, you know? My wife at the time was simply lazy, and refused to work.
I had a rare day off on April 3, 1995, And was planning on sleeping in, and spending the day with the boys.
At 6am, I woke to my wife screaming my name from the living room, not in anger this fine, but in total panic and horror. As I woke up, I finally got some words in her screams, and what I picked up was my name, and the phrase, “He’s not breathing!!” I got up and ran to the living room to find my wife holding my 3 month old son, Brendan, screaming and running in a panicked circle. I finally got her to give him to me, and when she did I told her to call 911. When she handed me Brendan, his little body was cold. I laid him on the floor, being a first responder, I knew what I was doing. I put my finger in his mouth to make sure his airway was clear, and his mouth was dry and cold. His tongue was stiff. I made her give me the phone and I told the 911 operator to tell the rescue units on the way to slow down. There was no hurry at that point, and no need to speed and endanger anyone else. I hung up the phone, and went to my bedroom to put on pants, so I wouldn’t be in my underwear when the rescue guys showed up. Sudden Infant Death Syndrome used to be a lot more common than it is now, the way I understand it. Not completely sure. I never had the guts to try to have another child. With her, or my current wife.
When the coroner showed up and asked if we wanted an autopsy, my wife immediately answered yes, and I let that stand, but didn’t really agree with it. When the coroner told us to pick an outfit with a hat for the funeral, my wife wanted to know why. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it would cover the ugly scar from the autopsy she’d requested.
13 days later, when the bomb went off at the feseral building, they mobilized my class for search and rescue at the site. As I was getting my bag together, my phone rang again, it was Capt Fleetwood from the sheriffs office, telling me that I’d received the call only because my name was in the class list, and that if he caught me anywhere near the bombing site, I’d be a civilian for the rest of my life. My eventual goal was to work in the bomb squad at the department, and Capt Fleetwood was in charge of it, and he was the key to my career. He said, “Troy, there was a daycare in the building. After what you’ve recently been through, you simply can’t be in here, man.” There were a lot of jobs to do down there, though, and I simply couldn’t sit at home while my brothers and sisters from the department helped our community, so I simply had to make sure that Capt Fleetwood didn’t see me. And my other brothers and sisters respected me enough that kept my presence on the downlow. Of course my hat, and the breathing filter masks helped a lot as well.
What I’ve been through has made me who I am, and I have a pretty great life today. Years later, I met my soul mate and live of my life and married her at the age of 35. By the way, my marriage didn’t last a year after the death of my son. I guess that’s pretty common. If could change what happened, I don’t think I’d be able to resist at least trying. My son would be 23, now. I’ll never know what he’d be doing, or the man he would be. But, I’d i were to change what happened then, would I have the wonderful wife I have now? I went on to a career in law enforcement, and retired early due to an on duty injury.
But, I can’t bitch. There’s a lot of people out there have had horrific things happen, and in the grand scheme of things, was what happened all that bad. Every day, while families are wiped in violent ways, Home intruders, etc, right?

Sorry to bring the discussion down, and for writing a novel on here, but the question really got me thinking, and before I knew it, I was writing.
I really don’t know if I’d change anything. How could I not try? He was my son, man! But at the same time, it’s made the person I am. And I LIKE the person I am. Would I be different? I’m sure I would be.
 

GNTLGNT

The idiot is IN
Jun 15, 2007
81,027
307,967
56
Cambridge, Ohio
You know, it’s hard to say. I’d say my watershed moment (see what I did there?) was April 3, 1995. It was 13 days before the bomb was detonated in my city at the Alfred P Murrah Feseral Building. At the time, I had a new infant son, Brendan, and a wife with a child of her own, Eric (4), from a previous marriage. I was leading to be a dad. I had a wonderful example to learn from in my own father, and I think I was getting a good grip on the job.
I was on night school at the Oklahoma County Sheriffs Dept at the time, and working 2 private security jobs from 11p-7a, and the other from 7a-3p tonsupport my little family. We weren’t doing very well, but we were eating, you know? My wife at the time was simply lazy, and refused to work.
I had a rare day off on April 3, 1995, And was planning on sleeping in, and spending the day with the boys.
At 6am, I woke to my wife screaming my name from the living room, not in anger this fine, but in total panic and horror. As I woke up, I finally got some words in her screams, and what I picked up was my name, and the phrase, “He’s not breathing!!” I got up and ran to the living room to find my wife holding my 3 month old son, Brendan, screaming and running in a panicked circle. I finally got her to give him to me, and when she did I told her to call 911. When she handed me Brendan, his little body was cold. I laid him on the floor, being a first responder, I knew what I was doing. I put my finger in his mouth to make sure his airway was clear, and his mouth was dry and cold. His tongue was stiff. I made her give me the phone and I told the 911 operator to tell the rescue units on the way to slow down. There was no hurry at that point, and no need to speed and endanger anyone else. I hung up the phone, and went to my bedroom to put on pants, so I wouldn’t be in my underwear when the rescue guys showed up. Sudden Infant Death Syndrome used to be a lot more common than it is now, the way I understand it. Not completely sure. I never had the guts to try to have another child. With her, or my current wife.
When the coroner showed up and asked if we wanted an autopsy, my wife immediately answered yes, and I let that stand, but didn’t really agree with it. When the coroner told us to pick an outfit with a hat for the funeral, my wife wanted to know why. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it would cover the ugly scar from the autopsy she’d requested.
13 days later, when the bomb went off at the feseral building, they mobilized my class for search and rescue at the site. As I was getting my bag together, my phone rang again, it was Capt Fleetwood from the sheriffs office, telling me that I’d received the call only because my name was in the class list, and that if he caught me anywhere near the bombing site, I’d be a civilian for the rest of my life. My eventual goal was to work in the bomb squad at the department, and Capt Fleetwood was in charge of it, and he was the key to my career. He said, “Troy, there was a daycare in the building. After what you’ve recently been through, you simply can’t be in here, man.” There were a lot of jobs to do down there, though, and I simply couldn’t sit at home while my brothers and sisters from the ...helped our community, so I simply had to make sure that Capt Fleetwood didn’t see me. And my other brothers and sisters respected me enough that kept my presence on the downlow. Of course my hat, and the breathing filter masks helped a lot as well.
What I’ve been through has made me who I am, and I have a pretty great life today. Years later, I met my soul mate and live of my life and married her at the age of 35. By the way, my marriage didn’t last a year after the death of my son. I guess that’s pretty common. If could change what happened, I don’t think I’d be able to resist at least trying. My son would be 23, now. I’ll never know what he’d be doing, or the man he would be. But, I’d i were to change what happened then, would I have the wonderful wife I have now? I went on to a career in law enforcement, and retired early due to an on duty injury.
But, I can’t bitch. There’s a lot of people out there have had horrific things happen, and in the grand scheme of things, was what happened all that bad. Every day, while families are wiped in violent ways, Home intruders, etc, right?

Sorry to bring the discussion down, and for writing a novel on here, but the question really got me thinking, and before I knew it, I was writing.
I really don’t know if I’d change anything. How could I not try? He was my son, man! But at the same time, it’s made the person I am. And I LIKE the person I am. Would I be different? I’m sure I would be.
...thanks for sharing that, thanks very much....out of pain and loss, beauty can grow-and for you-I'm glad it did.....
 

Spideyman

Uber Member
Jul 10, 2006
40,472
147,686
73
Just north of Duma Key
You know, it’s hard to say. I’d say my watershed moment (see what I did there?) was April 3, 1995. It was 13 days before the bomb was detonated in my city at the Alfred P Murrah Feseral Building. At the time, I had a new infant son, Brendan, and a wife with a child of her own, Eric (4), from a previous marriage. I was leading to be a dad. I had a wonderful example to learn from in my own father, and I think I was getting a good grip on the job.
I was on night school at the Oklahoma County Sheriffs Dept at the time, and working 2 private security jobs from 11p-7a, and the other from 7a-3p tonsupport my little family. We weren’t doing very well, but we were eating, you know? My wife at the time was simply lazy, and refused to work.
I had a rare day off on April 3, 1995, And was planning on sleeping in, and spending the day with the boys.
At 6am, I woke to my wife screaming my name from the living room, not in anger this fine, but in total panic and horror. As I woke up, I finally got some words in her screams, and what I picked up was my name, and the phrase, “He’s not breathing!!” I got up and ran to the living room to find my wife holding my 3 month old son, Brendan, screaming and running in a panicked circle. I finally got her to give him to me, and when she did I told her to call 911. When she handed me Brendan, his little body was cold. I laid him on the floor, being a first responder, I knew what I was doing. I put my finger in his mouth to make sure his airway was clear, and his mouth was dry and cold. His tongue was stiff. I made her give me the phone and I told the 911 operator to tell the rescue units on the way to slow down. There was no hurry at that point, and no need to speed and endanger anyone else. I hung up the phone, and went to my bedroom to put on pants, so I wouldn’t be in my underwear when the rescue guys showed up. Sudden Infant Death Syndrome used to be a lot more common than it is now, the way I understand it. Not completely sure. I never had the guts to try to have another child. With her, or my current wife.
When the coroner showed up and asked if we wanted an autopsy, my wife immediately answered yes, and I let that stand, but didn’t really agree with it. When the coroner told us to pick an outfit with a hat for the funeral, my wife wanted to know why. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it would cover the ugly scar from the autopsy she’d requested.
13 days later, when the bomb went off at the feseral building, they mobilized my class for search and rescue at the site. As I was getting my bag together, my phone rang again, it was Capt Fleetwood from the sheriffs office, telling me that I’d received the call only because my name was in the class list, and that if he caught me anywhere near the bombing site, I’d be a civilian for the rest of my life. My eventual goal was to work in the bomb squad at the department, and Capt Fleetwood was in charge of it, and he was the key to my career. He said, “Troy, there was a daycare in the building. After what you’ve recently been through, you simply can’t be in here, man.” There were a lot of jobs to do down there, though, and I simply couldn’t sit at home while my brothers and sisters from the department helped our community, so I simply had to make sure that Capt Fleetwood didn’t see me. And my other brothers and sisters respected me enough that kept my presence on the downlow. Of course my hat, and the breathing filter masks helped a lot as well.
What I’ve been through has made me who I am, and I have a pretty great life today. Years later, I met my soul mate and live of my life and married her at the age of 35. By the way, my marriage didn’t last a year after the death of my son. I guess that’s pretty common. If could change what happened, I don’t think I’d be able to resist at least trying. My son would be 23, now. I’ll never know what he’d be doing, or the man he would be. But, I’d i were to change what happened then, would I have the wonderful wife I have now? I went on to a career in law enforcement, and retired early due to an on duty injury.
But, I can’t bitch. There’s a lot of people out there have had horrific things happen, and in the grand scheme of things, was what happened all that bad. Every day, while families are wiped in violent ways, Home intruders, etc, right?

Sorry to bring the discussion down, and for writing a novel on here, but the question really got me thinking, and before I knew it, I was writing.
I really don’t know if I’d change anything. How could I not try? He was my son, man! But at the same time, it’s made the person I am. And I LIKE the person I am. Would I be different? I’m sure I would be.
Thank you for sharing you story with us. My deepest sympathy for the loss of your son. As time passes, and you become more familiar with the SKMB you will find this group like no other. We are family. The word we use is Ka- Tet, one made of many. When a member hurts, so do we. We share the good, the bad and the ugly. Each event in our lifetime makes as the person we are today. Keep posting- and I send you love and green lights.
 
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