Twice I’ve tried and failed. I hate regrets and I have two big ones.
Through an intermediary I send word to my first deep and true love. It is 25 years later and I calmly see my part in the painful bitter betrayal that choked us both. The response back is a non response: a dollop of vanilla variety silence. If I read into it, the non words are clear: ‘I am ignoring you. Leave me alone.”
The second regret is less complicated but equally unfortunate. I lost a good friend to a bad decision, one that was not then and definitely not now worth anything close to the cost. It’s been four years. I’ve sent a couple of cards and left a couple of phone messages, apologizing, lamenting, hoping for a reconnect. I’ve gotten word back, politely and indirectly, that the time is not right… maybe some other time.
I am looking for redemption and find it buried in rejection.
Isn’t that just the way sometimes? You have to let go of someone you wished you had gripped harder or softer. You have to accept what you can’t make right. That’s your only chance.
I’ve phoned my friend Dory and we’re sharing a double scooped hot fudge sundae in downtown Northampton. It is a warm breezy Sunday night in June and gratitude skips around our ankles. Dory has made a few regret calls herself lately, with similar results.
We are two minds now less emcumbered by several less people. It’s a loss and the ice cream is quite divine. Just ice and no heat.
Isn’t that just the way sometimes?