For all of us who have lived 60 years plus, it would be fair to say that along the way we have had regrets of one kind or another.
Getting old, bad marriage choices, poor career directions, things we said in anger that caused irreparable damage to loved ones, the separation of families, the estrangement of children to name a few.
I have always stood in awe of the people I’ve met along the way who have marriages that have lasted well over 40 years and who still seem to like each other. Yes, they will admit to having their fair share of ups and downs, but the love for one another has endured.
For me, my regrets have been the loss of my mother in 1983. I was 30 years old then and just beginning to mature and connect with my parents. My mother died suddenly, and I regret that I didn’t take the opportunities to know her better. As a kid growing up, I am sure I took my mother for granted most of the time. I also think of all the things she missed out on, like knowing her grandkids and watching dad grow old with her and seeing me grow into the man I have become.
I regret that my children have been deprived of a mother. Their relationship with their mother is strained at the best of times. Some have little to no contact with her. One of my boys she threw out of the family home because he was gay. He has never been near her since.
I say this because I think every child needs a mum.
I think regrets are things we have but for the most part, can’t do anything about. The past is the past, and we can only look forward, and as my best friend will say to me, we do everything one day at a time.