“If you could relive a day all over again, which one would you choose? Don’t say it out loud, but think about it.” Though we weren’t on the best terms, my wife and I looked at each other with shared confusion about the relevance of his question to our present predicament.
“Respectfully, Dr. Adebayo,” my wife, Debbie, interjected. “We need practical directions to help us reconnect now that our kids are all grown and out of the house.” I felt blindsided when she asked to see a therapist because I didn’t think there was anything wrong with our marriage. This whole thing seemed ludicrous to me.
“Let me show you something.” The doctor stood and opened the door opposite the one we had entered through. We followed him through to a white room resembling a high-tech laboratory with large cables on the floor leading up to a metallic apparatus in the middle of the room. The lanky psychiatrist fiddled around on the screen before two doors opened on the apparatus, revealing two pods adjacent to one another like coffins. “Don’t be frightened.” He chuckled, probably at the bewildered looks on our faces.
“People usually say that before asking you to do something frightening,” I said.
“This is a memory machine that allows you to relive a day stored in your memory bank. However, this time you can make different choices without causing a butterfly effect or creating a multiverse because you are not actually traveling back in time.”
“That sounds dangerous. Haven’t you seen every time travel movie ever made? It always results in catastrophe,” I warned, genuinely spooked by this high-tech gizmo.
“Have you used this before?” Debbie asked sensibly.
“Many times.” Dr. Adebayo grinned. “And it has proven to be a great exercise for healing from traumatic experiences or enjoying a memory from a different perspective.” He pulled out a helmet attached to cables inside the pod before explaining how it worked. “Put this helmet on and lie down comfortably in the seat. Once the doors are closed, you will hear my voice through the speakers asking if you’re ready. Then think about the memory you want to go back to and count backward from ten.”
“What if it turns out to be a nightmare and we want out immediately?” my wife asked about another thing I hadn’t thought about, but now I was thinking about horrific and embarrassing moments. I did not want to live those again.
“Not a problem. Say that you want out and I will be able to hear you and wake you. This is meant to be for personal healing, so do not discuss which memory you plan to revisit. Consider it destiny if you do meet in the same memory, but it is not a requirement.” He smiled again warmly as he handed Debbie the helmet for the first pod. She got in and mouthed the words “I love you” before shutting herself in the metal coffin.
As the shrink helped me into my pod, I had to ask, “Are you going to be able to see my thoughts? Because I may need some privacy, if you know what I mean.”
“I understand,” he chuckled. “I will not be able to see anything but your blood pressure, heart rate, and brain activity. Your memories are your own.” I put my helmet on and slid down into the pod, feeling a little claustrophobic when the door slid shut. “Can you hear me okay?” asked the doctor over the intercom.
“Loud and clear.”
“Good. Now think of the day you would like to relive and begin counting back from ten.”
Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four…three…two…
I woke up in the living room of my first apartment, sitting on my old couch. It was surreal. Everything was exactly the way I remembered it but with even more detail. My book collection was much smaller and the comic book content was way higher. It was a one-bedroom, one-bath little place, and the natural sunlight kept our whole flat lit from sunup to sundown. The mirror showed a much younger spectacled man, beardless, with no grays or crow’s feet. There was a queen-size bed in the bedroom with a charcoal gray three-piece suit laid out on top of it. It was my wedding day.
There was a ’93 Volvo in my garage ready to take me to a church we no longer attend. People I hadn’t seen or spoken to will be there, people who will hurt me, people I will hurt, and people who are no longer living. Still, I am excited to see them the way I remembered them back then. Pulling up to the big megachurch brought back so many complex emotions. The fondness we used to have for this place is marred by things that would take place there years later, but they don’t know that, and that’s not why I’m here. I am here to marry the love of my life… again, but this time, I’m going to enjoy every second of it.
“What up, big dog?!” asked the familiar high-pitched, friendly voice of my old friend who would marry us. We don’t talk anymore. It’s a shame, but I’m still glad to see him. “Are you excited or nervous?! Do I need to get you a barf bag?” He poked me repeatedly in the ribs and belly, laughing hysterically as if he were the one being tickled. “What’s wrong with you? You’re getting married to a beautiful girl.”
“I’m stoked, man. I couldn’t be happier. It’s good to see you.”
“I just saw you like twelve hours ago. Let’s get you set up in the green room. Your brother is already here.”
“Which one?” I asked.
“Your oldest brother, I think.”
On the way to the green room, we ran into Zelda, our wedding planner and my wife’s old mentor. “I’m so happy for you guys! It’s so exciting! The day is finally here. How are you feeling?” She gave me a big hug. We remained close for a few years before Zelda moved to Texas with the great exodus out of California.
“Is Debbie here yet?” I couldn’t remember if she was here this early.
“I can’t tell you that!” Zelda exclaimed but then answered in a whisper. “Yes, she is getting ready down the hall, but you cannot see her. I will let you know when it’s time to take the stage,” she said, clapping her clipboard.
In the green room, my oldest brother, Lenny, greeted me with a big bear hug. He was thinner then, but always a big dude. “I can’t believe my baby brother’s getting married. If only Eric could’ve been here.” That’s right, Eric was in the military at the time and deployed to Afghanistan. My dad was there, looking much younger than when we had lunch a few days ago, just as bald.
We all talked for a few minutes before the door burst open. “Where’s the groom!” demanded one of the voices I was looking forward to seeing most. Mike was the brother right above me by a few years. I couldn’t help but give him a big hug and hold on too long. “Whoa, dude, I was going to say we know you’re not gay no more, but now I don’t know.” He’s been in prison for the last twenty years. There were tears in my eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked seriously.
“It’s just really nice having my brothers together.”
“Not all of them. Eric’s not here,” Dad stated the obvious. I haven’t been able to sit together with my brothers in many years, so I reveled in the joy. Then, something strange happened.
Zelda came into the room right on time and told us, “It’s time to get the show on the road.”
“What? Are you sure?” On my first wedding day, Debbie was forty-five minutes late to the altar. I remember wondering if she had changed her mind about marrying me. This is different. We all got to our places. Mike pressed my shoulders tightly and walked me to the center of the stage in front of my old grinning mentor.
My guitar apprentice was ready to sing the wedding song we had been practicing for weeks. She was only a kid then, now probably married with kids. Everyone told me that my leg was shaking like a dog as I waited for Debbie to walk down the aisle, so I kept it steady. The music started to play, the doors opened, and my beautiful bride walked down the aisle. The dam broke, and I sobbed like a baby just like I did nearly thirty years ago. When Debbie saw me, she also began to cry in her father’s arms. Immediately, I knew this was my Debbie! She had picked the same day! That’s the only way this could be happening.
After giving her flowers to the bridesmaid, she came up to the stage and pressed her hand gently on my cheek. “Ted, you look so young.” At this point, I don’t believe she realized that my consciousness was in her memory of our wedding.
“You look so beautiful,” I said to the twenty-year-old shell of my wife. It was like interacting with an old photograph, but I knew it was the mind of my Debbie. We gazed into each other’s youthful eyes as the pastor went over our vows. It had been a long time since she looked at me that way, as if I had just rescued her from being devoured by a beast. Come to think of it, it has probably been a long time since I looked at her that way too, as if she were the only girl in the world I would devote my entire being to. There was no person in the world as beautiful as her, even without the gorgeous white dress, makeup, and dolled-up hair. She was stunning. My knees felt weak because I suddenly realized they were wagging like a dog’s tail… again.
We both said, “I do,” and administered the elements of the Eucharist to one another. Unspoken tension was building like steam in a kettle ready to burst by the time the pastor said, “You may kiss the bride.” Initially, we had talked about having a modest kiss for the sake of our families, but this was just a memory. Like giddy teenagers, we kissed passionately in front of three hundred people. “Alright! Alright! Save it for later!” joked the pastor before dismissing us. Zelda and the photographer led us to the green room.
“Congrats, guys! We are going to gather the family for pictures, but we want you to have some time alone to enjoy as newlyweds. Meet us out here in… say fifteen minutes?” She smiled and shut the door.
Before I had a chance to tell her we had picked the same memory, Debbie locked the door and turned off the lights. It was a stark contrast to what actually happened, but it was strangely beautiful to think she couldn’t wait to get me alone. Sometime later, we were on the floor laughing. “Can you believe we are actually married?” she asked.
“Four kids and almost thirty years later,” I added.
“I know… wait.” Debbie’s eyes widened and her cheeks blushed as she hid her breasts with her dress. “Ted! Is that you?”
“Which one?” We both laughed, and she punched me on the shoulder before leaping into my arms.
“I can’t believe you picked our wedding day!”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“You took advantage of me, you bastard!”
“Hey! You thought it was the twenty-year-old me, cougar.”
“Oh, Ted, I really wondered if you still loved me after all these years. I chose this memory because I never felt more loved by you than on this day. Sometimes I wonder whether you look back and regret marrying me, wishing you would’ve picked someone else.”
“You are the one love of my one life I get to live. This day was the only day I wanted to relive because this was the only choice I have ever been sure of. Even with all the rough patches, sleepless nights, career changes, and hospital stays, I was always certain that you were my person.”
“You didn’t just stick it out with me because I’m the mother of your children? Because now that they’re gone, I’m scared there is nothing holding you to me. Wouldn’t you rather just run off with some twenty-year-old?”
“I chose you to be my partner in life and bound my soul to you before I knew we could even have children. I’m grateful that we did because I knew you would be an amazing mother, but now that they are all grown, I’m excited to have you to myself. Maybe I need to do a better job of showing you how much you mean to me.”
“That’s all I want, Ted, to feel like you still love me when I have nothing left to give you but my old used self.”
“You still have a lifetime of companionship, love, and happiness to enjoy with me if you’ll still have me. Forgive me for making you feel like you haven’t been enough because you’ve always been everything to me.”
“It’s a two-way street, honey. I know I have been holding back a lot from you because I don’t want to get hurt. It’s not fair to you, and I’m sorry. You always tell me that you love me, but today you showed it to me by choosing our wedding day.”
“Let’s enjoy our wedding day, like we always talked about. Then, when we wake up from this memory, let’s go on a honeymoon of our own.”
“We can take that train ride on the Orient Express like you always talked about when we were kids.” Debbie caressed my smooth cheeks. “We were so young! You look like a baby. It’s nice and all, but I miss your thick salt-and-pepper beard. You aged well, Teddy.”
“So did you, kid.”
“Can you help me get this thing back on? We’ve got some pictures to take.”
We knew the photos wouldn’t magically appear on our walls or in our album, but we still had fun with it. Debbie was sure to take more pictures with her mom, something she had always regretted not doing. When we looked through the album, there wasn’t a single one with just the two of them. Now, they were posing for them like models on a runway. It was a joy to see them getting on so well.
My dear aunt was there to take pictures with us. She was more like a grandmother to me, being so much older than my mother. It had only been a few years since she passed, and I missed her dearly. I held her for a very long time, and she didn’t want me to let go, as if she knew. I missed hearing her sweet voice every birthday. I look forward to seeing her again one day.
Our reception was very awkward because we didn’t know what to do with ourselves before. We felt strange being the center of attention as we sat and ate. Now that we have nearly thirty years of history, we were chatting as if we were on a date. “I think we should give the house to one of the kids and get that condo by the sea,” Debbie suggested.
“I still want to get the ranch out in the valley. We can take care of the animals and have a couple of dogs. You love dogs.”
“Yes, but animals will be a lot of work, and so will a big property.”
“It’s a little too early to talk about retirement,” said the wedding planner. “It’s time for the father-daughter dance.”
My father-in-law is a real tough guy, police officer, and bodybuilder, but a total softy about sentimental stuff. They danced together to a sad Spanish song and shed a few tears. All of the women in the room were weeping silently together, wiping tears carefully, trying not to ruin their makeup. I remember the mother-son dance being super awkward when I was a young man. Now, as an old man, I was looking forward to dancing with my mother. The older I got, the more I appreciated my parents and what they did for me. Sure, they weren’t perfect, but it takes being a parent to appreciate that they did the best they could with what they had. Parenting is hard, and I’m still here because of them.
“Mom, I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I wouldn’t be where I am today without you.”
“Oh, son, you’re going to ruin my makeup.”
“I don’t think I say it enough, and I need to do it more often, but I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, son. Are you ready to be a husband?”
“Probably not, because my brain won’t be done cooking until I’m twenty-five, but we will survive. I can promise you that, with grandkids and all.”
“Take your time with the grandkids. I’m in no hurry to be a grandma again so young. You can thank your brother for that.”
“You’re right, Mom.”
Back then we were so nervous we didn’t even enjoy the amazing Mexican food we had catered or the cake. Everything happened so fast before. We savored every bite and even fed each other. People kept tapping their glasses for us to kiss, and we did it every time. My cousin, who is now a recovering alcoholic, snuck booze into the church though it was prohibited. We had a couple of beers outside in the parking lot, though I wasn’t old enough to legally have one yet. I wanted to tell him what his future held, but these were just memories, so it wouldn’t make a difference.
We sometimes reminisce about our wedding and wish we could’ve just had a courthouse or backyard wedding, but the people who were there meant a lot to us at the time. Maybe we don’t talk to a lot of them now, but the past shapes the future. We are where we are because of the people who helped to shape us along the way. It reminded me that I need to cherish the people around me now while they’re still here. I’m gonna call some of these people to see how they’re doing now.
It was time for us to leave. The Volvo pulled up with cans tied on strings hanging off the trunk. We ran through the grains of rice tossed through the air and got in the car. It wasn’t a Porsche, but it was ours. We drove off to our first apartment in the ghetto part of town. “That was a lot of fun!” Debbie rested her head on my shoulder and sighed. “Your cousin’s not going to show up at our door again, is he?”
“No, I talked to him about that.”
“Good.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. “I’m ready to go home.”
“That’s where we are going.”
“To our house, with our bed, and my old man.” Debbie caressed my face one last time.
“You sure you don’t want to see the old apartment?”
“I’m ready for a good cup of coffee, and we used to drink pre-ground Folgers. Seeing the old apartment will make me melancholic. I wanted to leave on a high note.”
“That’s a good point.” I nodded. “Dr. Adebayo, we are ready to get out.”
“Copy that,” responded the doctor. We exited the pods, and I couldn’t wait to embrace my gorgeous wife. “I guess things went well in there.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Debbie sighed.
“I’m glad you found each other again.”
On the drive home, Debbie wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my scruffy beard. I could still see the twenty-year-old in her with all of the grace and maturity of the years. “I love you,” I sighed and kissed her forearm.
“I can’t wait to tell the kids all about it!”
“I can’t wait to get you home!”
“In that case, I’ll call them after.” And so, we went home and had our cup of coffee.
