If I had another chance to laugh, I’d drop the needle on the 78 take a turn on the living room rug, my little white socks step gaily on Daddy’s big black leather shoes to waltz away.

I’d tug on the heavily, starched white shirt asking to be pulled up, lay my pigtails in the soft spot just between his neck and shoulder. Round and round we’d go. I know that this is the safest spot for me in the whole wide world.

If I had another chance to learn, I would be more interested in Nana Reese. What was it like to be a young Welsh wife with four children sailing across the Atlantic Ocean to Ellis Island? What do you remember of South Africa? I would definitely ask for the sugar cookie recipe.

If I had another chance to love, I would call my mother up and ask to forgive and forget, for me and the grands and her daughter-in-law, her longest friend. What good did it do to push us away to die alone?

If I had another chance to marry, I’d marry number three as number one have his kids, make his coffee, wash his clothes, and never regret one moment of chores because he would do the same for me.

​Story inspirations and ideas are my own. Thus, positive reactions are welcome. Criticism not.