Regrets

I am learning that regrets come with loss. Especially a loss this big. I feel lucky that I have never felt any actual guilt, but I did struggle quite a lot with what I wished I had done differently in our lives together. I regretted that I didn’t come home earlier from work all my life. That I didn’t call him and talk to him that day. That I didn’t tell him more often that I appreciated him. That we never went to Australia, Alaska, and Hawaii like we wanted. That we never took the cruise we always wanted to take with some friends. That I told him if he wanted to go on an elk hunt he had to get a job first. That I never surprised him like I always meant to with U.S. Open tickets (tennis) for his birthday. That we ever moved to the place that put him in that spot on that day. On and on and on.

When I was home a couple of months ago I was thinking about all these regrets while driving to the cemetery to “visit” him. I was thinking that I had the regrets even though he would not have wanted me to, but I didn’t seem to be able to help it. Then I started thinking about making sure I have no regrets when I die someday. This suddenly made me realize that if he had known he was at the end of his life, HE might have had regrets. I was shocked and horrified at the thought. I started making a list in my head of what I thought he would regret. I feel confident that I could make the right list – when you live with someone for so long you know their thoughts well enough to make their list. I won’t go into what was on his list, because it is his, not mine to share. But that day I had a long talk with him about the fact that he should not have any regrets about anything between us, and I REALLY meant it. He made mistakes, and I’ve made mistakes, but in the end, I think we were stronger and better for having made them. Without them I don’t know that we would have achieved what we did. And in the end, even if he made mistakes in life regarding us or anyting else, they ALWAYS came from the best of intentions, but perhaps ended up being mistakes when viewed in hindsight. He loved us and we knew it, and he was a good person who treated others fairly and well. A good legacy for anyone.

Since then, I have largely been able to let go of my own regrets. By feeling how much I didn’t want him to regret anything, I realized that I shouldn’t. Not because we wouldn’t want each other to, but because there was really no need for them.

Except for one thing. I really regret taking the truck that day. More than ANYTHING, I regret taking the truck – if he had been driving it would he have lived? The impact would have been lower down – would it have made a difference? I will never know, and I will always regret this one thing.