Last time, I promised you the regret story that made me cry, but first let me share a regret that was the theme for many people: career regrets.
More than one man told me this regret: focusing on the pursuit of sports to the detriment of school work when he was in high school. When he got to college, he realized he wasn’t ever going to become the professional athlete he had imagined. Consequently, he wasn’t scholastically prepared to follow the career path he would have liked to pursue. He felt he had to “settle” for a lesser career.
There were women who wished they had leaned harder into their careers. They speculated on what they might have achieved if they had dared to defy the convention of the times and stepped into a field typically dominated by men. One woman admitted she chose a less-demanding career, because she had children to raise. She expressed regret, wondering what she could have achieved had she pursued her first passion.
I shared with her something another woman told me: “I wonder if I’d made different choices, would that have just left me with different regrets?”
A look of relief washed over the woman. She pointed a finger at me and said, “Thank you! I’m sure that’s true.” And, she suddenly seemed content with her choice to have a less-demanding career and be a mom.
I listened to a 90-year-old man who had spent his entire life devoted to his career, rising through the ranks to the top of his profession. He loved his career. He was proud of what he had achieved. But when he retired, he had zero hobbies, nothing to fill his time and none of the friendships that often come with a hobby. He told that as a cautionary tale to the rest of us.
Now, let me tell you about the regret someone shared with me that made me cry. A workman came to my house this past winter in Arizona. Imagine “Ben,” a big, burly guy about my age. We chatted and found we had a lot in common, including a love of reading, college football, our faith beliefs and he had even hunted in North Dakota. Since I was working on this column series, I posed the question to him, “Do you have any regrets you’d share with me?”
He looked at the sky for just a second, then began, “I was just starting my business. This was maybe 30 years ago. Things were hectic. There was a lot to learn. A lot to figure out. Jobs to bid. My dad called me often. ‘Hey son, need a hand? I have some time today.’”
“No, Dad,” Ben would say. “I have it covered.”
A couple days later, his dad would call again, “Hi, son. Can I help out with anything?”
Ben, trying to juggle all the balls a new business throws, didn’t need his dad underfoot.
“Thanks, Dad. I’m handling things.”
This went on for years. Not all that long ago, Ben’s dad passed away, and it was only then Ben tearfully realized, “My dad didn’t think I needed his help. He just wanted to spend more time with me.”
I was blinking back tears of my own. I could barely speak, but managed to croak, “That makes me so sad.”
Ben nodded, then added, “My dad and I did have a great relationship, so there’s that. Still…”
He told me his mom was still living and he was doing his best to make extra time for her. Ben has sons of his own and I asked, “Do they know this story? Do they make extra time for you?”
He shook his head. “Not really. Like me, they’re busy with their work. Their families.”
He gave me the estimate for the work he had come to survey, but before he walked out the door, he turned and asked, “Would you mind if I gave you a hug?”
To some people, that might seem extremely awkward, but it wasn’t at all. Sometimes revisiting regret can make you examine the past, open your heart and share the story to try and heal from your regret.
Every time I’ve repeated that story, I’ve choked up. How many of us wouldn’t wish for more time with someone we loved, now gone? If only…
But we can learn from Ben sharing his story, his regret. We can, right now, make a special effort and carve out special time to spend with someone important to us. Not because we have to, but because we want to make sure we’ve learned from someone else’s regret. Let’s not be reluctant to share our regrets. Let’s use them as a catalyst to shape ourselves, our friendships and our families into something better and so much richer.
Next time, I’ll conclude this series by revisiting a time when I was compelled to review my past – and what I found.
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Roxanne (Roxy) Henke has spent many months listening to regrets, both big and small. She’s learned we have the power to use our regrets (and those of others) to change our outlook on life. You can contact her at roxannehenke@gmail.com.
