Regrets

There's a song about these, but I'll spare you Frank's wise words. I have rarely heard my Dad express regret, and as I write that I wonder whether my kids will say something similar, should I reach 90. Today he told me he regretted something that, a few days ago I was hopping mad about. Which, of course, made me feel both vindicated and guilty at once. Parents eh? If you think mothers are good at guilt inducements it might only be because when they're around the fathers just let them have at 'er. But when mom's not there, dad can get 'er going too. But I digress.

Today Dad had no intention of inducing guilt. He was genuinely chagrined at a choice he'd made a few years ago that, at the time seemed like a reasonable one, though even then I was wishing he'd choose otherwise. But he didn't. And today he said that he questioned his own "silly loyalties" (his words) that caused him to opt for the less practical, on some sort of moral ground. I don't think I've ever had as honest a moment with my father as I did today, because I agreed with him, and told him that I too wish he'd chosen the other option. That it would have made the transition we were in the midst of right then (seeing to having his wife (his third, who is slowing wasting away) committed to the full care wing of the seniors home they live in, in Winnipeg) quite a lot easier.

Then we discussed his generosity, and how he'd have to take a step back from it, in order to keep up with the bills. Then we talked about how hard it was to commit someone you love, who might not fully understand, or might misunderstand, into the care of others. He worries about being seen to be shirking his duty. This from a man who has worked hard and long and watched two loved ones die prematurely already. He's worried that he hasn't done his fair share. We cried and hugged, which was likely also a first (unless he actually did cry when he spanked me, like he said he did, but I never saw it).

In weakness there is so much new to see. It was so much easier telling him I loved him tonight, and really feeling it. I mean I do love my Dad - what are the options after all - but too often it's been the kind of love that one musters: the love of loyalty and moral pragmatism, rather than the love of common ground and admiration. Today though I could see in my Dad something I could admire. Something I could recognize, and emulate. So here's to regrets. Let there be a few.


Ride report
in:         10'C wind 10 ks SE
out:      drove to Wpg on family business