When I hear people say "I have no regrets," I first think of one of two things: 1) they have enough money, prestige or power to account for their actions, or 2) they are at least somewhat callous with an inflated sense of self worth. Or both.
Then again, maybe they are on to something. Perhaps it makes sense to cover your tracks and move on. There's less heartache that way.
Me, I have plenty of regrets, borne primarily from my own foolhardy decisions, and I live with them nearly every day.
However, what I thought I might regret (having kids) is something I have not any second thoughts about. Way back when, I thought I was too selfish to have children, but without them, there really isn't any point. Life is utter drudgery when you have no one waiting to see you at the end of the day.
When I told a friend long ago (with the anxiety from the unknown of becoming a first-time parent) that we were expecting Jack, she said simply: "That's (meaning children) what it is all about."
She was, and is, correct. "It" is the secret of the world. And it took me far too long to realize and understand this. "It" is the look in their eyes when you return home after being away. "It" is hearing "I love you daddy" while snuggling. "It" is also hearing "you mean it's time for you to go? You just got here."
"It" is everything.
But as far as regrets go, what happens when we never seem to learn, when we keep making the same mistake over and over? Do we resign ourselves to keep trying until we get things right?
Given what I've learned with Jack and Ruby, it's best to keep soldiering on. But some days, that's a mighty tall task.
Like today.
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