My Biggest Regret

I have been taking a lot of cute little surveys lately...you know those forwarded e-mails...and one of the questions that comes up is, "What is your biggest regret?", or something similar. The cool thing to say seems to be something to the effect of "I have no regrets" or "I regret nothing b/c my mistakes have made me what I am today". Very few people actually list their regrets, including myself, I suppose for fear of getting lectured on how you should not regret things, how it is illogical and senseless and counterproductive, and perhaps some people just feel it a sign of weakness to list regrets.

We watched a movie last night called "Away From Her", about a couple experiencing Alzheimer's disease. The wife is who has it, and the movie is about their relationship, with interesting twists compared to similar movies of this genre. A very good movie, I might add, although not altogether upbeat, as is to be expected.

I like movies like this though, b/c for me, it is yet another great reminder to cherish, I mean really cherish, what you have now. It is so easy for someone like me with my personality to take things for granted. I NEED reminding, sad to say (or maybe I'm not so abnormal in this sense?). Also, I tend to dwell on the petty things, the little annoyances. I need to be reminded to just be happy that things are so great right now, especially with my husband and I, and the little one. It may not always be this way. You can't predict it. I really should just let the little things go, and enjoy this!!!

Anyway, the wife ends up in a nursing home, as will happen. There a lot of scenes with family visiting patients. And here is my biggest regret in life:

That I did not visit my Grandpa more, both before and after he was in a nursing home, but especially after (I say especially b/c I did visit him more when he was still at his house, although still not enough). I am ashamed to say that I hardly ever visited him on my own, if ever. I wish now I would have made it a weekly thing, or monthly at the very least.

Why didn't I? I don't have a good excuse, b/c what good excuse is there other than I myself not being physically capable of visiting, which wasn't the case? One of the reasons is that I used to be very selfish. I had other things to do. I did not want to make time for that. I am learning how to become less selfish these days, although I am not to the level of selflessness that I aspire to be some day.

But the biggest reason, much bigger than the selfishness, is that I live in a constant state of denial when it comes to the deterioration of my loved ones, or when it comes to the fact that they are dying. So not fair to the person in question, I know. But in my younger mind (hopefully not my current one), if I don't acknowledge it outright, it's not happening, or at least I am not forced to face it.

I did not want to watch my Grandpa deteriorate. I wanted no part of it. Two things about this:

1) I was very, very close to his wife, my Grandma. I was close to Grandpa, too, b/c of Grandma, but she was really the one I was close to. Grandpa was great, too, but he was just sort of there, who I loved by way of Grandma. Grandma was the the dominant one who ran the show and who I interacted with more often.

Grandma died when I was 16, and Grandpa changed after that. First from his grief, which he really never got over losing her, but also b/c he did not have Grandma there to help him with anything, right down to daily tasks. He also changed in natural ways, but ways that I could not face...like he became a "dirty old man"...heh...buying Playboys and flirting with nurses, ha ha. Nothing really wrong with that, and I'd laugh in any other scenario, but I could not deal with the new Grandpa versus the old traditional Grandpa from my cherished childhood years. Therefore, I did not really enjoy visiting him.

2) I don't enjoy visits to nursing homes. Who does? I don't like seeing death everywhere...and it's just creepy. Selfishness at it's height - I know this. I got this from my dad...not to blame him...and I'll get back to that.


While Grandpa was still alive, I had thought about visiting him more often so that I could write down all of his stories about the old days, so they would not be lost. But obviously, I never did.

And I regret it now. After seeing a movie like that...I mean I know he was so lonely and depressed there. I should have been a better granddaughter. I will just have to regret this one.

But I must still learn from it. It's one thing to pity yourself for things you have done wrong, but one must actually DO something about it, or else it just becomes another thing you can feel sorry for yourself about, and then it becomes about YOU again.

My first plan of action is to be less selfish in general (instead of simply waiting for someone to be in a nursing home again) - and this means calling people more, being there when they need me, etc. Like I said earlier, I'm still not classified as a Good Samaritan, and I may never be. But I can tell you that I'm a much better person now, much more giving than I used to be. I am actually proud of some of my latest good deeds, and I wonder if it is okay to be proud of this? Maybe I just feel good about myself instead of being proud, and about what I've done, and hopefully that is okay to feel good. I'm writing it here, but I'm not going around bragging about it...and I think *that* defeats the purpose of doing good deeds, when you go around bragging about it. Do your good deed for the sake of it, right? Not for bragging purposes.

The second plan is to take my son to visit nursing homes or similar, or to involve him in good deeds. My parents avoided these places, and like I said, my dad was very negative about the whole thing, like I used to be, and still am to some degree. I understand how he feels...but I believe that being raised that way, it becomes more difficult to break the pattern. Also, you are simply not used to places like that then, and you are not used to doing a good deed like this if you are not brought up to do so.

I don't believe in blaming parents for all your faults...once you realize it, you should either decide to be just like them and shup up about it, or to not be like them. And I don't mind that they are like that, and my parents are really not bad people overall. I just want to expand my horizons, and take my son along with me. I don't want him to fear these things like I did, nor to be as selfish, even if he does end up an only child like me.

I can tell you I still won't like it, and I will still dread it...visiting a nursing home, if and when I have to. What there is to learn here is that it is not about me. It's about rising above my own needs. No one looks forward to these things, but it still needs to be done.

I am getting older, too. Hopefully, I myself have a long time to worry about this with regards to my going into a home. But getting older does remind you that you will be dying some day. You put yourself in their shoes, all alone, taken away from their home, in a nursing home...wouldn't it be awful if your grandchildren and your loved ones didn't visit you? I must forgive myself for betraying my Grandpa like that. But...I am sorry, Grandpa. That just sucked, that I did that. Royally.

Again, a movie like that makes we want to cherish every moment, to pray daily and give thanks, and to reach out to my family and friends. Life is short. But it can be a good life. And I am suddenly reminded that I need to visit my only living grandparent, my other Grandma, who is alive and well and at home, and 80, more often!!! I wasn't as close to her, but that doesn't matter, does it?

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Footnote 1: My Great-Grandma was also in a nursing home, but she was quite happy there. She got very old and unable to take care of herself physically, but mentally, she was sharp, up until the very end. She liked being in a new environment, with people her age. she had others to talk to, and she played games and did crafts and enjoyed herself, and died a peaceful death. I didn't visit her either (I was in college then, and even MORE selfish), and I don't feel *as* bad about it knowing that she fared better than my Grandpa. But, based on principle alone, I still should have visited her. For what it's worth, I did attend her funeral though. Drove there all by myself, in a nearby small town. I'm glad I did that, b/c it clearly made my family very happy that I was there.

Footnote 2: One thing I can be happy about myself with regards to Grandpa, is that I was there when he was actually dying. I got the call late at night, dropped what I was doing (unlike me) and went straight to the home. When I arrived, it was pretty clear that he was dying. I immediately dropped to his side and held his hand, and told him I loved him and that he would be with Grandma soon...I felt excited for him in that sense. I often wonder if I was being a little melodramatic, just to look good or make myself feel better, but I really do think I truly and sincerely felt this way. I also attended his funeral and actually gave the eulogy at his funeral. I felt some good amount of closure there, at least.

Footnote 3: My biggest regret USED to be that I wasn't there enough for my Grandma when she was dying. She died a long and awful death of cancer, and I was scared senseless. I was scared to be around her, and didn't want to see her dying. She was very bad off, depressed, and not herself at all. After she died and throughout my youth, I often blamed myself for her death. I had wished I would have rallied her through it...held her hand and said "c'mon Grandma - fight it...you can do this!!!", and I had wished I would have prayed more...and so I blamed myself for her death, b/c I didn't do enough. (the image of me holding her hand and rallying her through is probably what inspired me to take Grandpa's hand and tell him I love him. It was too late to rally him, but I also regretted not telling her outright that I loved her, and I at least did not make that mistake again, with Grandpa)

However, I have forgiven myself for this and no longer regret my actions. The primary reason is that I was all of 15 and 16 years old. So young to put someone else's life on my shoulders. The secondary reason is b/c I don't think it would have mattered. Kind of funny in a way to think that I thought I could have single-handedly pulled her through a cancer that was all over her body - in her bones and spine and brain and organs - everywhere. So I have asked her and God for forgiveness with regards to that selfishness, and instead of regretting, I mostly think about her fondly, and often.

My Grandpa though, I was old enough to know better, hence the regret. But I will still forgive myself, although I must not let myself forget.


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Final thought - I sometimes wonder if I write these things just to make myself feel better or to be prideful or something like this. And then I wonder if that is such a bad thing...to make myself feel better. I suppose not, as long as my actions actually improve in the future.