At some point, it all faded into a dream—washed away by the tides, carried deep into the sea, far beyond reach.
Do you remember your childhood dreams? Gowing up, I remember how our elementary school teachers would ask us to write or talk about our childhood dreams. We were kids—naive and little humans beings. Innocent tiny creature who didn't know anything about life. We didn't know that life wasn't as simple as we thought it was. We didn't know that life was filled with complexities. We weren't bothered about paying electricity bills. House rent wasn't our problem to deal with. Furnishing and repairing the house didn't fall into our hands, our parents delt with those responsibilities. All we were concerned about was getting good grades, playing games with friends and having fun. So when asked what our dreams were, many of us yelled out the best jobs in the world; pilot, surgeon, engineer, and so on. Interestingly, these weren't my dreams. I had a totally different one which stayed with me for quite some time.
At some point when I was in elementary school, my childhood dream was to become a Reverend father. Anytime I think about this, I let out a loud laugh. Now that I think about it, this was my first-ever childhood dream. It was influenced by my religion and fueled up by what I saw. I liked the way Reverend fathers dressed, walked, preached and talked that I wanted to be like them. However, this dream was short-lived. I don’t exactly remember when I cleared this childhood dream and changed to another, but what I am sure is that it didn't last for a long time. It was replaced by another childhood dream. A solid and more profound one. A dream that was influenced by the most special woman in my life—my mother.
My mother is a nurse. She's been in that profession for as long as I can remember—way before I was born. I have always made it a habit to lookup to her. I often followed her to her workplace and from a far corner, I watched closely how she carried out her job dutifully and religiously. I loved her white uniform—it was as white as snow and I loved how she always starched it and suited it up with a black shoe. Every time I followed her to her workplace, I saw doctors and wanted to be like them. I loved everything about them; they walked with charisma, and it was as if they were aura farming. I totally loved everything about this profession; how my mom would prescribe drugs for her patients, how she would handle drips, injections and drugs. The whole thing captured my heart. Becoming a doctor and following in my mom’s footsteps became my dream and it remained with me for a long time.
I remember that when I got into high school, I had already made up my mind that I wanted to go into the healthcare profession. So I started making intentional efforts towards it. I shared my childhood dream with my friends, parents and teachers. The dream lived rent-free in my head. When I got to senior high school, we were to choose between three classes; art, science and commerce. As expected, I went straight to science class to pursue my dream. I didn't have problems with any subject. Well, not until I got to my second year in high school (SS2). I suddenly started to fall out of love with chemistry. I don’t know what happened, but I stopped enjoying chemistry and maybe to an extent, physics classes. That was where the dream that I kept in a glass house started to shatter.
When I couldn't bear it anymore, I opted out for the art department. Was that a mistake? Should I have made that move? Of course, my mom supported my decision. But even till now, I still wonder if I made a mistake switching departments. Sometimes, I still ask myself if I should have remained in the science department. Every time this question pops into my head, I find solace in this quote: Everything happens for a reason. However, one thing is for sure - if I had the opportunity to go back in time, I definitely would stay back and push through till the end.
Here's my entry to the sci-fi multiverse prompt for week 18. The topic is: Childhood Dreams.
