“Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been.”
As I was driving up to my mom's house on Friday, this quote came into my head, while my constant companion napped in his car seat and Fleetwood Mac played softly in the background. It made me think of my grandmother, who I would visit later in the day, and if she had ever been truly happy in her life. It made me consider my life and decisions I've made. Am I following my dreams, I thought, as I drove north in the afternoon winter sun. My life now is so unrecognizable from what it was ten years ago, so much has happened, so many restaurants and babies and big decisions made. I know that I am happy now, but will I look back and have regrets? Did my grandmother?
She was moved to a private room on Friday and my mother and I both felt it was important to help her get settled in to her new room. It was much nicer than her old one, bigger and brighter and at the end of a quiet hallway. She seemed, if not happy, content with being moved. When her clothes were hung, her picture frames placed on her long windowsill, her calendar taped up, her big basket full of yarn placed next to one of the chairs and her bed perfectly made, topped with a handmade blanket from my aunt, we left. We rolled her down to the dining room for dinner and kissed her goodbye. I promised I'd come back tomorrow to play cards, which I did. Two days in a row. It was a lot of driving, but it was nice.
When the day comes that she is no longer here, I will have no regrets. There is nothing I haven't told her, no 'might have beens' for me and her. Our story has been a wonderful one, one I'm thankful to have been a part of.
She was moved to a private room on Friday and my mother and I both felt it was important to help her get settled in to her new room. It was much nicer than her old one, bigger and brighter and at the end of a quiet hallway. She seemed, if not happy, content with being moved. When her clothes were hung, her picture frames placed on her long windowsill, her calendar taped up, her big basket full of yarn placed next to one of the chairs and her bed perfectly made, topped with a handmade blanket from my aunt, we left. We rolled her down to the dining room for dinner and kissed her goodbye. I promised I'd come back tomorrow to play cards, which I did. Two days in a row. It was a lot of driving, but it was nice.
When the day comes that she is no longer here, I will have no regrets. There is nothing I haven't told her, no 'might have beens' for me and her. Our story has been a wonderful one, one I'm thankful to have been a part of.
No comments:
Post a Comment