Regrets

One week from today, I will have managed to be a widow for 2 years.I am still not used to that term, but it is what it is. In some ways, it seems just like yesterday. The hurt seems to be as raw as ever. Not so much the pain of loneliness, but the agony of regret.

Regret seems to be my constant companion. Those little things that were left unsaid or not done, become huge when the other party is gone and things can't be "fixed." I never knew how much those little unsaid words or forgotten kisses would mean after death...Not to him, of coarse, but to me. He is in heaven having the time of his life right now...not a worry in his heart..he made it...But here I remain on this earth, to continue my journey.

In many ways, my husband of 40 years was a romantic. The first flower of the season was always placed in a vase on the kitchen window, handed to me as I arose first thing in the morning, or given to me with instructions to put it in my hair. Growing older, he became a man of few words. He often said, "I can't write flowery words in a card but I can sure pick them." And he was right. The words on a page were always from his heart. Unfortunately, over the years, I grew to take such things for granted.

One of things I miss most from about him are his daily kisses. I received at least one kiss a day with the words, "have I told you lately that I love you?" Many women today would die for a man that had this routine. But I took this gesture for granted. What was worse, I rarely returned the favor. Often at the end of the day he would say to me, "do you know how long it has been since I have had a kiss from you?"

Regrets! Those feelings of sorrow about things that can never be restored..Regrets have loomed high in my thoughts, these last two years.

Case in point, I distinctly remember bringing Dan home from the hospital the day he died. He had been there three days to have a stint put in. We had been arguing most of the time, (I must say he was always a horrible patient and I was a worse caregiver.) He wasn't ready to come home.I recognized the signs. This wasn't my first rodeo. I knew what things should look like before he left the hospital. I had talked to the Dr. about this but he and I did not see eye to eye on the situation. Anyway, it was Thanksgiving day,and Dan was going home regardless..

After falling off the steps outside the house,( he wouldn't wait for me to help him like I told him to.) we finally settled in. He was in his recliner and ready to watch what was left of Thanksgiving Day football. I was exhausted. As I rose from my chair to go take a well deserved nap, I distinctly heard the Holy Spirit say "kiss him." I don't know if I was just tired or mad, but I ignored the nudge and went to bed.

Imagine my horror when I awoke and found him lying face down...dead on the floor in the den. Gone was time for me to say I was sorry. Gone was the prayer that I would change my ways. Gone was the ability for me to look him in the eyes and ask him to forgive me. Time for us to change things were gone. All I had left were regrets.

I don't know if I will ever be able put these regrets behind me. I do know that I look at family relationships with a different perspective now. I kiss my children and grandchildren more often and I am much more careful with my words. Sometimes I think I can feel Dans' presence and know that he has forgiven me just as God has. I do wish I had it to do over one more time, so I could hear my husband say, "It's OK Ms Pretty, I forgive you."