A Choice

A few years ago I was brought along to visit a distant relative on my father's side. The relative was an elderly man, my grand uncle, someone I had never or at least don't remember ever meeting. At one point or another I was left alone with him in his living rooms. My parents must have popped out to stock up on groceries for him.

His old furnishings made me feel like I was longer in the real world, the modern one in which I really inhabited. Sat back, not exactly looking comfortable sinking into his thick, well used armchair. He broke the silence.

'-----, I'm sure you know very little about me.'

'That's right.'

'I'd like to tell you a bit. I won't overwhelm you, but I'd quite like to share my story. When I was very young. Perhaps 5 or 6, I can't really say. I made a deal with someone in a dream...'

I cocked my eyebrow, though he didn't take notice. He was looking down. In his own world as if telling this story to himself.

'It wasn't exactly a dream. I was somewhere in between, half awake half asleep. Mind you, I can't describe anything about person in my dream. All I know was that it was a woman's voice. A voice in my head I suppose. 

In this deal the voice gave me a choice: I could choose between either a short fun life of fame, I imagined something like a rockstar, you know. Or I could live a long life, but one of mediocrity where I wouldn't achieve anything of note. As a young child I had a nervous disposition. I was always fearful of my parents dying and what that would mean for me. How lost I would become. I remember having an especially bad dream along those lines and rushed to my parents' bed to cry and seeking reassurance they were not going anywhere. So following my nature I chose the latter option, a long safe life. No thrills. You may think to be great to be remembered by history should be the real ambition of a person. Of course, it's a temptation but it wasn't me. 

It seemed a no brainer to my childhood self. And so my life went on. As promised, unremarkably. Whenever I was anxious I could cling onto the terms of that deal to see through my hardships. Mainly medical, or from my hypochondria. If I had a lump under my skin, a larger than usual mole or a terrible pain somewhere in my body, of course I would be concerned but I would mentally lean into my deal of longevity to reassure me some.

I had always been quite reserved. Normal for an anxious person I imagine. But in my early adulthood I started making bolder decisions. My company were offering an internal job to move to Hong Kong to support their business there, I applied and got it. Never did I previously think about moving to another country. I had never even been abroad on holiday. I ended up living over there for an exciting four years. Like I said before, I won't get into all the details now.'

He briefly looked up at me. A small smile on his face. The first time he had done so since he started his monologue but then quickly looked back down to his lap.

'Anyway I also became generally more proactive and forward. I met my wife at a pub after I'd moved back to England. I just walked up to her. She was there with her friends which would normally have deterred me. Not so then. We hit it off and not long later we were married.

I may not have been a rockstar or a famous artist or politician but I felt happy with my life. I experienced those most precious life moments. Marriage. Kids. I thought, if this is the unremarkable life I chose then I'm happy to be able to enjoy this for the long time I have. Sadly, this contentedness did not last.

As though I were betraying the deal from my childhood, a power decided to put things right. I wasn't fulfilling my side of the deal. Not to the extent I was expected to. I was suddenly struck down. It came from nowhere. I was unable to leave my house. There was no ailment to be seen. I walked around fine. I was my usual self completely. The thing was that I found myself utterly unable to walk out the front door of my house. This house in fact. This house I shared with my beautiful wife and my two young children. I can't really explain it for the life of me. As you can imagine, the effects of this curse were huge and devastating.

Work could only give so much sympathy before I was let go. Therapists came and went. Leaving the house was just an impossibility. My wife bless her, could not stay forever with me as I was, and as you see still am. She took the kids after a time and moved on. I don't blame her of course. I couldn't exactly be the proactive go getter I had become when we first met. Of course I experienced the expected major life events - wedding, kids. I take some solace in that.'

'Bugger me, you've led some life...' I blurted out.

The old man harrumphed. A small smirk betraying his amusement at my outburst.

Deary me... I didn't exactly love the story he spun for me. Not cheery stuff at all. As if noticing my disquiet he abruptly changed the subject.

'You know, I wish it were always autumn.' he glanced out the window and the orange leaves outside. 'It feels a season when nothing should go wrong, away from the ferocious heat of summer, the bleakness of winter.'

'And spring?' I offered.

He took a short moment. Looked up to meet my gaze once more. Warmth in his eyes. 'Yes, spring's alright too'.

I never saw him again after that day. Although once in a while the choice he made does niggle at me. I run it around my mind before soon forgetting about it again.

Writer's note: This story is a complete fabrication. A little foray into fiction you might say. While there may be exaggerations, maybe even some falsehoods, in my other entries on this blog this is perhaps the most fictional of all. BB