I sit and fix myself a bowl of cereal before school. The milk seems a bit questionable, not quite as fluid in the pour as I remember. There seems to be a, “Ker-splat” added in… meh, milk is milk I suppose and I love me some cereal!
Living in the motel on 28th street by the Chicago Dr. overpass was alright. The motel was just as dingy as it is today, commonly mistaken for a brothel of sorts, with its pay-per-hour option, viable under the visage that it’s for the people who just need a quick “rest”, not the whole night. The room was furnished with a single, rickety bed propped in front of a 12” tubular, the only bit of escapism for most wide-eyed lads.I was the more adventurous type, braving the busy streets and exploring my surroundings. There was a tantalizing praying mantis across the parking lot by a dilapidated, worn-down fence that I could hang-out with, and enough to explore for a curious 9-year-old for the time being.
My dad had just been divorced, or in the midst of it, with my step-mom and we had to stay here for now. It was here that my dad asked the question whose answer would define my future.As he enters the main living area from the bathroom, after getting ready to take me to Taft elementary and carry on to work, he looks than much as I do now. With strawberry-blonde hair atop the Rothley family “extended” forehead and piercing blue/green eyes, but more of a lean, tall figure. He throws a curve ball.
“Son”, he said,” I have a job opportunity in the Dominican Republic. It’s another country much different from here.”
I wasn’t too sure where he was going with this.
“I don’t know if it will be the right place to raise you, so I’ll give you the choice. You can come with me, or I can give you to your mother.”
Now there’s a choice all 9 year old's are equipped to answer logically; go with your father that you’ve known most of your 9 years to an unknown world, or to a mother I didn’t know existed. Either answer propelling me into the unknown. I surmise most would have gone with the most familiar, staying with their father. Not this strapping young lad! Either out of desire to meet my mother, or some other unknown reason, I choose to join a different family; opting to live with a complete stranger instead.
The school day passes just as begrudgingly as any other. Too young to understand the weight of the decision made, I’m unaffected. It’s not until the ride back from school that it sinks in a bit. Taking an unfamiliar left unto Byron Center, down a ways towards a part of town I was not yet privy too. Than a right into an emerald-green, wooded road; the likes of which I haven’t seen since my distant memory of living with a man named Jeff on farmlands set amidst fertile country lands (whose location is lost to me). Now actually ecstatic by the surroundings I’ll have, we drive on to a set of apartments. Walking up to the unfamiliar buildings, angst sets in. What would these people look like? Are they nice? Would they be accepting of me? Am I even Wanted?
As I enter the apartment, I’m greeted by a new brother, a bit of a role reversal going from oldest to youngest, or the only too youngest, depending on the time frame. I now have a big brother, but at least it’s one all the same. Along with that is another step-figure, a new person to take on the role of father, who looks much different from the biological one, with a dark, mullet perm, and large framed glasses all atop the only similarity, a lean frame.I am an unexpected post wedding surprise. Just a couple of weeks prior was this new couples wedding. Shortly after their honeymoon, a 9-year-old child arrives at their door.
The apartment was a two bedroom, so I had to share the room with my new-found brethren. Along with the new family came a new school, again. West elementary this time.The situation had a benign effect it seems, I didn’t stay at West for but half a year. Shortly thereafter we moved to a quaint house in a quiet neighborhood, a stone’s throw from my next elementary school, Parkview (my fourth and final). During this time I would get gifts for my birthday and the holidays from my father, as well as a letter here and there; this lasted for a short while. Apparently my father didn’t stay down there for too long, a couple years maybe, and moved back to Grand Rapids. The latter fact was withheld from me. I didn’t see him again till the end of my high school career, before I left to California for the Marine Corp.
What could have been from a different choice in one decision? I would have grown up some in a Spanish-speaking, less opportunistic society. I would be bi-lingual and cultured by the school system of a foreign country, a Caribbean island. Then again, it was a Caribbean Island... Spending my young, curious years next to the translucent turquoise water, with the warm, caressing sand leading into the thick underbrush of jungle vegetation teaming with wildlife I had not yet seen; ripe for a little adventurous chap as myself to explore. This re-course doesn’t sound too bad either.
This truly was a fork in the road of life. A choice between two distinct upbringings, each with its own means to an end, a complete 180 degree difference. I now have a good relationship with both parents and their corresponding families. Had I chosen to stay with my father, I may have never known the other side of my family or have any relationship with them, nor would I even have the Chwalek namesake. Too think what would of become of me had the other course been taken. Sometimes, you just have to let life set a path for you, because unbeknownst to you at the time; it might very well be the best course of action.
But this does raise a very interesting question after watching a movie in 2015 ("Mr. Nobody"). Am I just an imaginary aspect of one path taken amongst the forest of infinity?...A potential outcome of circumstances made back when? Are the other ¨me´s¨, those who traveled different paths and had different experiences running around somewhere? Doppelgangers!
I have had dreams that I surmise as being constructs of alternate realities from different decisions made. Do our decisions in the present branch off into alternate dimensions of reality that we can tap into through dreams...dreams showing us courses that could of been or be? Is our so called "real life" nothing but a dream scape showing us outcomes of potential choices? A true Infinite potential based off of individual choice, experienced through conscious observance for the sake of better choices made in infinity?...A majestic dream of the collective enacted for the betterment of the whole, through understanding mistakes made...and making a better evolutionary course through this understanding?
I wonder at the potential outcomes that could come from thoughts like this...except for the predominant thoughts of dogmatism and bias-ism that permeates our culture, destroying chances of rising above these preconceptions of life that hold us back from our purpose...that being evolutionary growth through experience and understanding!