I figured it out. I know where we missed the opportunity. We definitely didnâ€™t blow it, but it could have been even better.
There were three of us, all in our early twenties, living together across the street from a lake.
(Waitâ€¦suddenly I know where we missed two opportunitiesâ€¦.)
We were there, together, the three of us. Why wasnâ€™t there a game perpetually going on at the kitchen table? Isnâ€™t that part of our fond memories of the place, playing cards in the kitchen? Back in the day, Scoob, your mom would have molasses cookies and iced tea for us. Weâ€™d try not to get caught tipping back in the chairs on the linoleum. We were young and taken care of and had no worries in the world.
Were we wrong not to try to relive that? Would it have been a denial of all that had taken place since then? Would we only be fooling ourselves if we had picked up and tried to go on, as if we had merely experienced a bump in the road?
I think not. I think we should have done it. I think we should have cleared off the table, sat down, and possibly have healed.
And when more people moved into the houseâ€¦, well, that would have just been more people to join the game.
But we didnâ€™t. And Iâ€™m still playing.