I originally wrote this essay a few days after the 9/11 attack. I watched the attacks and the destruction of both towers with my students on a 32-inch television that was placed in my room on a pole. I knew my life, the lives of my students, and the lives of everyone in the world changed that day.

Seventeen years later I am also feeling remorse for a time I understood what the world stood for; at least my world. We are now in a place that is separated by ideas. We are now a divided nation yelling at each other because one side thinks the other side is wrong.

Actually they not only think there side is the correct but also think the other side is against everything we’ve always loved, admired, and were proud of. I just can’t figure out whose side I’m on or if I am right or wrong.

I want to go back to a time when I was more concerned with my weight and what I was going to wear to hide it.

I want to go back to a time when I was angry that George W. Bush stole the election. I also want to go back to a time I got over it.

I want to go back to a time when my biggest worry was finding more hair in my sink. Today, I wish I could find some hair.I want to go back to a time when my community’s primary concern was over-population and uncontrolled growth. I now wish I could see more children then dogs.

I want to go back to a time when beetles and wasps were the only invaders I had to worry about.

I want to go back to a time when I was upset because of my daughter’s new boyfriend. I am now perpetually upset about my daughter’s new husband.

I want to go back to a time when I got mad because it hadn’t rained for weeks and I had to go out day after day to water my lawn and garden. Today, I am more concerned about how much my water and sewer bill will be.

I want to go back to a time when I was worried my wife would be mad because I drank too much beer with my neighbor. She is still mad but we are now drinking Scotch.

I want to go back to a time I was bored watching the news. I just don’t want to care anymore.

I want to go back to a time when I became aggravated because I had blisters walking to the beach. Today, I just have memories of walking to the beach.

I want to go back to a time when I loved to laugh just for the purpose of laughing. Maybe if I stop watching the news I can remember how to laugh again.

I want to go back to a time when I shuddered when I saw obscenities painted on rocks by the beach. I don’t shudder anymore.

I want to go back to a time when I became annoyed by the absurdities of the commercials on television. This has evolved into being perpetually annoyed by TV.

I want to go back to a time when I became frustrated because my newspaper was not delivered on time. I miss getting a newspaper that actually wrote about the news.

I want to go back to a time I had to work late and was not able to watch any television. I don’t miss those times.

I want to go back to a time when my entire week was equated by a Red Sox or Patriot loss. I kind of miss them losing.

I want to go back to a time when my biggest worry was I ran out of underwear. Actually I still worry about that.

I want to go back to a time when I became upset because I couldn’t answer a question on ‘Jeopardy’. I am sorry to say I rarely can answer questions anywhere.

I want to go back to a time when I had to defend my President because he was caught in a lie. I don’t have that kind of time today.

I want to go back to a time when my computer decided to do anything it damned well wanted to do. Now I am worried someone else is making this decision.

I want to go back to a time when I felt totally secure anywhere I wanted to go.

I want to go back to a time when I thought I could always protect my family no matter where they were or how far they were away from me. I miss that time.

I want to go back to a time when my parents would take what time I had to help them. I dearly miss that time.

I want to go back to a time but I know I can’t even though I want to.

The End.

I want to go back to a time….again by Jim Fabiano.
Jim Fabiano is a retired teacher and writer living in York, Maine
You can contact Jim at: james.fabiano60@gmail.com