I would like to think that when I approach my last days I will have accomplished all my goals… visited New Mexico, walked the beaches and forests of Haida Gwaii, toured the Canadian North some summer.
That I will have told my children all the stories of their childhood, given them advice about the children they will not yet have conceived.
I would hope I have spent my days happily cycling the seawall with the wind in my hair (if cycling and hair occur on the same days).
That I would have seen the movies I’ve often thought of and written the stories or even the books I once thought I had so much time to.
I would hope that when I know my last days are upon me, when it’s far too late to walk those beaches, read those books, see those sunsets, that I will not regret what I was not able to complete.
But I have regrets already and that makes me sad. I’m afraid I have wasted time on worry, on work I didn’t believe in, in fear of things that never happened. Of driving a convertible on those bright days, summer or winter, when the world is alive. Of travelling the world for months or a year when I was young and it wouldn’t have mattered, a year or two before I started my work.
And now I don’t have the energy to travel or the money for the car.
I am told that living for today will help ease those regrets. Focus on what I have now. Seize the opportunities. Enjoy the sunshine. Or the rain. Enjoy the drive in my little car. Or a ride on the bus. Explore the city I dwell in. Discover something new.
Enough of the glumps. I am alive today. Focus on filling my day.