Letting Go of the "What If"
As a caregiver, there are certain thoughts we're often afraid to say out loud.
One of them is, What if my life had turned out differently?
It's a question that can be uncomfortable to admit because it is often followed by guilt. We worry that wondering about a different life somehow means we're ungrateful for the one we have. We worry that asking "what if" takes away from the love we have for the person we support.
But I don't think that's true.
I think most caregivers have asked themselves that question at some point.
What if I had been able to pursue a different career? What if travelling had been easier? What if I didn't have to coordinate appointments, manage schedules, advocate for services, or constantly think three steps ahead? What if my days looked different? What if my future looked different?
The truth is that caregiving changes the course of a life. It changes priorities, plans, relationships, opportunities, and sometimes even how we see ourselves. While there is incredible love in caregiving, there can also be grief for the path we didn't take.
For a long time, I thought those feelings were something I should push aside. I believed that focusing on the "what ifs" meant I wasn't appreciating what was right in front of me. Over time, however, I've learned that two things can be true at once. I can be grateful for the life I have and still wonder about the life that might have been. I can love the person I support while acknowledging that caregiving has required sacrifices.
Recognizing those feelings doesn't make us selfish. It makes us human.
As I get older, I've realized that constantly looking backward can keep us from seeing what is still possible. While it's natural to wonder about roads not taken, it's equally important to recognize the experiences, relationships, and lessons that would never have existed without the journey we're on.
That is one of the reasons I love the fall season.
As the leaves begin to change colour and fall from the trees, many people see a season of endings. They see trees losing something. I see something different.
When I look at the falling leaves, I don't think about loss. I think about preparation. The tree isn't dying. It is letting go of what it no longer needs so it can make way for new growth in the seasons ahead.
I think caregiving teaches us a similar lesson.
At different points in our journey, we may need to let go of expectations about how life was supposed to look. We may need to release timelines, plans, or dreams that no longer fit our reality. That doesn't mean those dreams never mattered, and it doesn't mean the letting go is easy. It simply means we are making room for something else.
Sometimes that "something else" is a deeper relationship. Sometimes it is a stronger sense of resilience. Sometimes it is a community we never expected to find. Sometimes it is discovering strengths we never knew we had.
The older I get, the less interested I am in asking whether my life would have been better if things had been different. Instead, I find myself asking a new question:
What is still possible from here?
That question feels lighter. It feels hopeful. It reminds me that while I cannot change the past, I can continue growing into the future.
The "what ifs" may never disappear completely, and perhaps they don't need to because they are part of our story. Like the leaves that fall each autumn, there comes a time when we have to let some things go, not because they don't matter, but because holding onto them can prevent us from embracing what comes next.
This fall, I'm choosing to spend a little less time wondering about the life that might have been and a little more time appreciating the possibilities that still lie ahead.
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