These things I see
In my later years I have come to realise that regret is a torture I can live without. I try to fix
things where I can – one way or the other, or send it off into the universe with love, for my
flawed self and for the source of my regret. But for the record, to those who I owe it, I am
I see memes online. ‘Things you would tell your younger self’. These memes always drag
me back to regrets. Don’t get fat is a recurring one which lingers despite best intentions to
eschew regret (the lament of an older, carb addicted woman). Obviously I would tell my
younger self ‘do not build things to be regretful about’ but what I really wish I could have
told me is that making active effort to see the lovely in all encounters because these are the
moments which enrich, sustain and endure.
Yes, it is true that two important loves in my life ended badly. I think all concerned took
time to recover but oh, that sweet, sweet eye contact we shared across the community
centre dance-floor. Her dark hair had a bounce to it and I was mesmerised. Whenever I
hear Nina Simone I see her dancing.
I was intimidated by the fierce, popular, arty, clever second so obviously I had to push her
away (sorry sure? Stupid, absolutely!) but she too, made me breathless with awe. Still
does. I am glad we became chums. She makes my life shiny.
The laughter, so much laughter, with friends who were once so vital in my life we called
each other sisters. In that way of the modern world we are linked on facebook and do not
laugh together so often but then… a great big smile comes into my heart as I write this
because that is where they will always live and memories of them are always full of
It took a devastating loss to remind me about the preciousness of family and to properly see
how amazing my kin are. Talented, funny, quirky, gentle, hard, rounded and edged and I
cannot believe how lucky I am to be related to them. I mean really? They are as gorgeous
as the sun and as mad as a box of frogs. We stood together in our darkest of times and
helped each other keep upright. My gratitude for my family is boundless.
I fancy myself as a bit of a wordsmith but when it comes to my wife I am stumped. There
are not enough words of the right type to explain why when she holds my hand I become
superwoman. Why a wren sings louder, chocolate is smoother, broccoli is delicious,
delicious broccoli makes us both laugh, when she is by my side. She just is. Everything.
Technically, I am at this very moment, my younger self – so to advise, how I see it is this:
regret dumping is good and keep seeing the deliciousness of broccoli.