Why?
I often have said that “why” is my favorite question of all. Anyone who knows me, knows that I do love to ask questions, so choosing this one word above all others is saying a lot. (My husband thinks I ask so many questions that he even calls me “the interrogator”; Of course, I think he exaggerates and I prefer to point to my roots as a features reporter to explain my behavior.)
In retrospect, I realize that throughout my entire existence, I’ve had an innate need to know why. Why something happens. Why something doesn’t materialize. Why something or someone behaves the way he/she/they do. Why now? Why not now? Why. Why. Why.
Sometimes, I’d find the answers. For example, the weekend before I was to leave for my one year away at Iowa State University, friends treated me to lunch at an eatery called D.B. Kaplan’s that sat on the top floor of Chicago’s Water Tower Place. A great time was had by all! Until we all were in our respective homes a few hours later, each of us experiencing excruciating stomach pains.
Surprise! We all ended up getting food poisoning. As a result, my departure for school was delayed. I didn’t know the why when it was happening, and I cursed the fact that it was, indeed, happening and ruining my carefully mapped out plans. But months later, when the tuition bill came, and I hadn’t the dollars in my bank account to pay it, the why revealed itself.
