Sometimes, I wonder about the road not taken. I stop for a moment and imagine what my life would be if I'd taken the other path. I feel regret and sometimes an overwhelming sadness. I focus only on what I may have missed. I feel the void - as real as if that which I did not choose had been torn away from me.
I often hear people say they wish they'd visited their mothers more, or been more generous with the 'I love you's.' But I don't think I disappointed on those scores. Mama-daughter drama? None. So why, then, do a bouquet of regrets still bloom in my heart, the older I get and the more Mother's Days I spend without her?
A wise woman once told me that the past was good for two things: to learn from and to enjoy. In general, I don't believe we should spend too much time wandering around in the past. Unless you've done your clean-up work on it, the past can be a very dangerous neighborhood. We ought not go there unescorted.