“Regrets, I’ve had a few, but then again, too few to mention,” crooned Frank Sinatra in 1969. Really, Frank?? I’ve had more than a few. While I don’t think it benefits me to ruminate on them, I believe it is helpful to recognize them.
When I was in my teens, maybe about the time I began to get some recognition for my writing, my father began to talk to me about a story he had in mind to write. It seems to me that it was about a pioneer family. He would have known something about that since he spent his early years in Plains, Ks. I recall his older sister Billie telling me a story about the five children piled horizontally in a bed. She described watching snow drift in through chinks in the walls.
“Nothing Books” (blank journals) were something of a trend about that time. I remember giving him one, telling him that was for writing his story. Some years later I found it still blank and reminded him he had a story to write. It seems like we talked again then about the story he was going to write.
In his final years, I said, “Daddy, remember that story you were going to write? What if you told it to me and I wrote it for you?” And the memory of this moment still brings on melancholy: he responded, really in a rather indifferent manner, “I don’t remember it.”
Perhaps that experience contributed to my determination to write and publish a book that had been buzzing around in my head for some years. I knew nothing about getting a book published. But I began to explore resources. That same process led to this blog.
While some regrets are perhaps too late for a “do over,” many times there is still room for “course correction.” I wonder if my father lacked confidence in his ability. While I suffer from that affliction, I now have had enough experience to know I can persist with challenges. The old adage from Thomas Edison that “Success is 10% inspiration, 90% perspiration” holds true.
Consider reviewing any regrets you have. There may be some that are “tweak worthy.” 😊
May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter. Shalom, Kate
Hope’s Café Bonus: Perhaps a blog on “regrets” deserves a “Sorry Cake” recipe: Mix 2 c. Bisquick, 1 lb. brown sugar, 4 eggs, 2 c. pecans and 1 T. vanilla. (The recipe doesn’t call for it but I think it begs for some cinnamon). Pour into a greased 9×13 pan and bake 35 minutes in a 350 degree oven. You’ll be “sorry” and “regret” you didn’t find this recipe sooner!
My only regrets are of things I might have given to others, whether material things or time, that I did not give. I like Earnest Hemigway’s comment: “Never regretted anything I ever did. Only regret things I didn’t do.”
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