On Regrets

Even the Dalai Lama, I understand, has regrets. We all know regrets can arise by doing the things we ought not to have done; or even more by not doing the things we ought to have done. And there is no health in us.

            I once brought home a Japanese teacup: blue and white stripes. My late husband was disappointed I’d not bought two, so we could have them both the same, but I didn’t get another. Sadly, my mother refused to buy my brother an orange jumper, thinking the colour didn’t suit. After his death in a crash, she searched everywhere for that lost orange jumper. She did often, ignoring her tastes, buy her children clothing they adored. Just not this time. I let down my neighbour who’d eagerly prepared for an outing, because I’d got myself so exhausted I couldn’t drive anyone anywhere. All regrets, for she is now gone.

            A feeling of loss attends regret. Someone who spends the children’s childhoods at work may later regret, but those times are lost. Regret isn’t retrievable. A blue teacup; an orange jumper; a trip to the dog show. The regret is about what came afterward. Loss of an opportunity to show love, compassion, commitment.

            Regret is related to remorse: a wholesome sentiment. Who is it that testifies for us? It is Jesus, standing at the right hand of God.