Tag Archives: guilt

A Life Lost

When I was younger and taking my first steps into adulthood and real-life responsibilities, I had a vision of what my life would be like. It wasn’t a set-in-stone plan with every minute detail laid out. It was a living vision of things I wanted to do – walk down a charming street in Paris, visit Scotland where my ancestors are from, see the Colosseum in Rome, hike in the Swiss Alps, go camping with friends, share my love of playing sports with my children, have two or three children, be a cool grandparent who could actually still do things with her grandkids.  However, some things just aren’t to be. Most days, I can live with this. I can focus on the positive things, things I can still do, things I appreciate more because of my illnesses. But then some days… it all hits me like a truck load of bricks, repeatedly. This past Sunday was one of those days. I was at my son’s soccer game watching all the kids running around and playing before the game. The players’ siblings and parents were on the sidelines kicking the ball around, throwing a ball back and forth. Some parents were talking about how much they enjoy coaching the younger kids in a variety of sports. I confess – I am jealous. I always saw myself as the the parent who would volunteer to coach her kids’ sports teams. I would play soccer or basketball in the backyard with them. I would take them down to the park and play tennis with them or roller blade around the neighborhood or ride our bikes together all around town or at the park with the bike paths. There was so much I wanted to do with my children. But I can’t. I don’t dare to even try on the best of days. I have learned I last all of five minutes before the fatigue hits or the pain kicks in. Not only that, but I only have the one child – my pride and joy. My health got in the way of having any more. My husband and I kept waiting for me to get better before having more. Now my son is almost 12 and that ship has sailed…

I watch my son and husband play in the backyard and the guilt and loss of not being able to join them is like a knife in the heart. I know I should be grateful for what I have and what I can do, and I am. But there are the days when the glass is half empty and leaking fast. I am not the person I wanted to be and that hurts more than any physical ailment. Regret is like that itch in the middle of your back that you just can’t seem to reach in order to scratch…