Regret

 I am a thinker. I get lost in my thoughts, pondering whatever new idea or revelation pops into my mind at any given moment. Daydreaming can keep me occupied for long periods of time, and usually, I enjoy the weird world inside of my head. But occasionally, when I’m in bed trying to fall asleep, or on a road trip left alone with my thoughts for too long, I find myself sinking into a pool of regrets. It’s not just the embarrassment, but rather a kind of disbelief at the combination of my ignorance yet utter confidence in each situation that haunts the back of my mind. 

One such memory often lurks and from time to time resurfaces. Compared to my other moments, it reminds me not just of embarrassment or shame, but also of guilt. The incident took place after the death of my mother’s father, someone I didn’t know well because of the ocean between us. As a child with almost no emotional connection to this man that had passed, I couldn’t understand my grieving parents.

My mom especially cried a lot. She would pick up the white landline phone and talk into it for hours, offering and receiving comfort in turn. Those long-distance calls must have sent our phone bill through the roof. I remember watching her speak, sometimes in soft, melodic tones and other times through tears, with curiosity. I was legitimately confused as to why she was sad. It was a strange feeling-- a man had died, a stranger had died, a stranger had died and broken my mom’s heart.

I once asked her why she cried. My mom seemed a little shocked at my question. She answered my question with a question of her own: “wouldn’t you be sad if Dad died?” I thought about it for a little bit, wondering what it would feel like if my dad passed away. A deep fear arose in my heart -- I didn’t want Dad to die, of course I didn’t. Suddenly, I felt guilty for asking such a tactless question,

I think about that moment a lot. I’ve long since realized that children are selfish and unsympathetic, sometimes at the worst possible moments. Yes, I cringe with shame every time I think about the way I thought I was right, that my mom was the weird one for crying. Yes, at times I do want to go back and scream at my own thickheadedness. But it’s these moments in my life, these horrible, hateful moments, that showed me my ignorance and helped me grow. In fact, maybe the reason I find these moments so embarrassing is because they remind me of my own foolishness. I may not like facing my faults, but doing so is important to my growth as a person. After all, facing my faults is the first step to fixing them.