Regrets

If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what regrets would you take with you?

My mother came to visit a couple of months ago and told me about one of the last conversations she had with John. She told him when he got better, she would take us all to Disney. She said his eyes lit up and he thanked her. He took a deep breath and cried, saying he didn’t think he would be around to go (I didn’t know he knew he was dying at this point). He told her he regretted not traveling. She said he cried so deep and hard. Before he got really sick, he did tell her he regretted waiting long to marry and have children. It’s hard to digest this.

We should have talked about it. I don’t know if I should blame how fast it all went or thinking he didn’t have any regrets. I honestly thought he didn’t. My regret is that I never once begged him to live. Never once did I tell him how scared I was and that I can’t live without him. Every other regret I had is out the window. These are the ones that really matter and that I will die with.

“She looked so peaceful.” Have you every heard this when someone talked about seeing the dead? I thought I would be able to say that when John died because I thought he truly was at peace. I guess morticians really know how to adjust the body and face to make it look like death is easy. That death is complete bliss. When I ran over to him and even though he died in his sleep-he didn’t look at peace. He had a “What the hell just happened?” look on his face and I didn’t understand until a couple of months ago. The few hours I had with him, as I watched John’s body decompose, his mouth opened as if to say “Wait.”

Wait.

I didn’t lived how I wanted to live.

Wait.

There is so much I have to say that I didn’t.

Wait.

I need to enjoy my life.

Wait.

Wait.

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