Life and Regrets

Is it possible to live life without regrets? I hear a few people say that, but it's difficult to think one might not want a do-over on at least a few things. Of course, those without regrets will often add they wouldn't change any mistakes because it's made them who they are today.

For me, two recent events brought into perspective how regrets are different. Regretting what you had no control over is futile; it's what you can do to change what might become a regret that is important.

My friend Diane recently lost her mother, someone whom I also considered a friend. They rode with me on trips to an annual writers convention so I became well acquainted with them outside of monthly meetings. Jean was a lovely lady and very independent despite her children's concern for her health and safety. Diane and I hoped to get the three of us together for lunch, but something also arose − now she is gone. This I regret because we might have gotten together before things interfered.

In talking with my sister in California, she again expressed how much she wished they had sought different medical treatment for my brother-in-law. My response to her was something I've said before: If you prayed about it and asked for healing, then you did what you could, and the direction to do something different would have prevailed. Simply put, if God's plan was to have our husbands live, then nothing we did or didn't do would have affected the outcome...period. Changing what I didn't and couldn't know, I can't regret.


My regrets stem from things I had control over, but hindsight is always 20/20. I think of the times I could have been a little nicer, been a little more generous, showed a little more caring. And I don't mean just for my late husband so I'll continue trying to live my life with as few regrets as I can by being a little kinder, a little more generous, and a little more caring toward everyone. 

Ouch! Maybe I Am a Material Girl

I'd like to think I've come a long way in putting less emphasis on the material world, but there are some things simply too difficult to part with or do without. I'm not talking about designer clothes, granite table tops, or a lavish estate; I thinking about sentimental items.

A few weeks ago, I had to replace a 3-seater swing with a smaller version. I would not have done so, except after 13 years, the mesh attached to the frame came unstitched and there was no way to fix it. You may wonder what's the big deal about replacing an old swing, and how could I be so attached to an object? The answer is simple − my husband.

In the last year of his life, it was time for Steve to give up his continuous list of  projects and enjoy what he had done. That included beautiful landscaping in our backyard and an added brick patio at the base of the deck he built years before. The area became a restful place where he could enjoy the outdoors, take a nap, or contemplate what was about to happen. We bought the swing for him.

Matthew 6:19-20 (NIV) states: 19 "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. 20 But store up for yourselves treasurers in heaven..."  I understand the difference of what we should treasure, but it's so hard to give up things associated with a loved one.

Memories cannot be taken away unless something like dementia or amnesia occurs, but still I cling to objects which are associated with those memories that keep my husband close. I suppose most of us do something similar as I recall, after our mother's passing, my sister not wanting to throw away any scrap of paper on which our mother had written something. 

Granted, these sentimental items are not associated with greed or envy so I think there is some leniency in applying the aforementioned scripture. But it just shows that some materialism is impossible for most of us.