FebulousFebruary 2025: Lost and Found

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

sorry.

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

laughter.

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.

Lel Meleyal

Brighton