“Of all the words 
of mice and men, 
the saddest are 
‘It might have been.’”
Louis L’Amour

Some decisions close a door so quietly that we don’ realize until many years later just how different the world on the other side might have been. Many years ago, I made such a decision. I chose to remain in California rather than return to The Bahamas. I have never regretted the life that followed, but from time to time, I still wonder: What if I had chosen differently?

Upon graduating from Santa Clara University, I received a letter from Mr. Lou Adderley, principal of Saint Augustine’s College in Nassau, welcoming me back to The Bahamas and the SAC community. I had previously taught there and had developed a deep affection for the school, my students and colleagues, and the Bahamian people. The possibility of returning was exciting. Nassau was thousands of miles from California, yet in many ways it already felt like home.

About that same time, however, I received an unsolicited telephone call from the principal at Saint Christopher School in San José. She was looking for someone to teach junior high literature and wondered whether I might be interested. Suddenly, two very different futures stood before me.

My heart was pulling me toward Nassau, but practical considerations pointed toward San José. I had recently secured a two-bedroom house in Santa Clara for only $200 a month. My 1971 Volkswagen was paid for and in excellent condition. Most of my family and longtime friends lived in California. Remaining in San José offered familiarity, security, and the opportunity to begin the next chapter of my teaching career close to home.

It was a heartbreaking decision, but I stayed.

What if I had boarded a plane for Nassau instead? Would I have remained at Saint Augustine’s College for five years, twenty years, perhaps my entire career? Would Nassau have become my permanent home? Friendships that eventually faded with time and distance might instead have deepened. New friendships would have formed. Perhaps I would have met someone there and married. Perhaps my children would have been Bahamian. My career, my writing, my spirituality, and even my understanding of myself might have developed in entirely different ways.

Of course, there is another possibility. I might have returned to Nassau only to discover that the experience I remembered could not be recreated. After a few years, California might have called me home again.

That is the mystery of the road not taken. We imagine that changing one decision would alter one part of our lives, when in reality it might change almost everything that follows.

Fifty years later, I cannot know whether returning to Nassau would have given me a better life. I know only that it would have given me a different one. The choice I made led to people I loved, students I taught, experiences I treasured, and a life I could never have imagined on that uncertain day long ago.