For thirteen years I volunteered as a medic on a country ambulance in Australia.
Friends were often concerned about me whenever we attended a particularly bad motor vehicle accident, but I dealt with those okay. I was too busy doing what had to be done to get emotionally involved, at least most of the time.
Give me a two-car wreck and I came home and went back to the computer and carried on writing. Am I messed up? Don’t think so. I’d done my job best as I was able, and the rest was up to God.
No, what threw me were the old folk making their last trip.
Because then it wasn’t t about God or Fate or Luck like the outcome of a trauma. These people made me think about the choices we all make in our life.
There was nothing much to be done clinically on those jobs so I rode in the back and we talked. Some folk were quiet; others welcomed the opportunity to share their stories.
Sometimes I asked them if they had any regrets. Without exception the things they said they regretted were the things they didn’t do, the chances they didn’t take.
In a way I wasn’t a medic on those days as much as a priest; the least qualified bloke in the world to hear anyone’s last confession, believe me.
The three things I remember most was:
‘I always wanted to be a singer. My sisters said I had a good voice. But my Dad said no, and then I met Jack and that was that. I wonder how it would have turned out if I’d just run off to Sydney like my friend Sandra. She had a great life, did Sandra.’
This lady broke my heart. She had been a good wife and a good mother; a thoroughly good person. But she had a dream once and she hadn’t followed it, and that was what haunted her in her last days. Seems to me that’s how it is with most people. It’s the things you didn’t do that haunt you.
‘I wish I’d spent more time with my kids.’
This guy had worked hard all his life, was highly respected in the community, he’d been a good provider and generally a good bloke. But he said his kids might have turned out better if he hadn’t been away working so much. Now all they seemed to care about was who was going to get what. Cat’s in the Cradle all over again.
He talked for the whole twenty minute ride to the hospital. I hope listening helped because there was nothing I could think of to say.
‘I wish I hadn’t shot myself in the foot so many times.’
He didn’t mean it literally. (Though we did have one guy who accidentally shot himself with a nail gun.)
No, this fella is the one I’ve thought about a lot lately, though at the time I didn’t quite get it. Let’s call him Michael. Michael told me that every time someone got close to him he found a way to keep them at a bit of a distance; his wife, his kids, his friends. Yet he was a lovely man.
Ten years to the day since I did my last job, so I have been thinking about these three folk. And about regret.
Especially about Michael.
I have followed my dreams best I could - I still do. And I spent a lot of time with my kids.
But for me there is this one regret I have to turn around, for I know there have been too many times in my life when I have pushed away those closest to me. It hit me the other day when I had a fight with my daughter over some stupid thing.
Because I create a lot of these situations. I sometimes panic when someone gets too close. It’s time to stop.
I don’t want Michael to have wasted one of his few last breaths giving me advice I didn’t eventually listen to.
So I wrote this post to give anyone who happens by the chance to consider what they might think about themselves if this was their last day on earth. And if there’s one thing working on an ambulance taught me - you never know when that day is.
Spare a thought for what regrets you might have at the end - and, what is much more important, can you change that now, while there’s still time?
This old song never fails to move me: It’s Piaf, in some pokey Paris club in 1961.
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFRuLFR91e4&w=420&h=315]
DISAPPEARED is a story about regret, and a man trying to put things right.
The story begins in the Dirty War in Argentine when members of the death squads killed opponents of the hard line junta - but then raised their children as their own.
But what happens when one of these children grows up and discovers the truth?
You can see more about DISAPPEARED here on Slideshare.
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Great post Colin, and I completely agree.
I’ve been a Writer for 10 years now, and sometime wish that I’d discovered my passion for the pen years earlier - but at least I have - and at least I’m doing something about it.
Thanks for sharing what Michael said - and for your thoughts, too
Thanks Mark. As you say, better late than never. One of my old mum’s favourite sayings …
What an incredibly moving post. Thank you so much. Regrets? I guess I won’t know until I am breathing my last. As it stands and because life is too short, I try hard not to have hindsight … only to move forward. An incredibly hard thing to do. Writing books is part of moving forward.
Thanks Prue - I guess none of us really know until that time. Sometimes thinking about it helps us know which direction to move forward I guess.
Hi Colin,your last post “Regrets ” is so true. Although I realised this when my mother who never did anything with her life except tend to the family and sit in front of the TV most of the time.I swore I was going to make the most of my life once my children were grown up. This I have fulfilled in many ways, Except one regret, I wished I had travelled the world more and now its far too expensive to do this. Maybe someday !
If it’s really important to you, you’ll find a way, Rita.
Lovely post. Everyone I think has regrets, missed opportunities, that “road not taken” that has made all the difference.
My favorite poem, Amy. The one decision that makes all the difference …
Bowlesey, ‘the three things I remember most were’.
Loved the blog.
Love
Kenny
Ken! I didn’t know you actually read it … good to hear from you, mate. Don’t forget I got room for you and the lads here anytime.
Great post. I think we all have regrets and opportunities we did not follow because of work and the way our busy lives play out. Seems a shame that we don’t find the time to pursue our dreams.
Well not pursuing dreams gets very real in the back of an ambulance on the last ride. It’s when life gets real. Phil, those three people had a lasting effect on me.
Beautiful, Colin. You know, I had to answer some questions last night about what a feared years ago verses what I fear today. Years ago I feared death, but today I fear not living enough in those moments before death. Every moment counts and it’s up to us to make the most of them. It’s post like this that help us remember that. Thank you.
Especially with that asteroid you’ve been talking about heading our way, Debra! What you say is so true - not living enough is what we really have to think be afraid of.
Great post, Colin. I appreciate people like you who have worked with, and cared about, people in life and death situations. One of my brothers was also a volunteer fireman and paramedic for about 15 years, before his job forced him to resign.
I don’t think there’s a way to live a life free of regrets, we just have to do the best we can. There is only one area I don’t want to look back on and wish I’d done more, and that’s all about my kids. I already regret that I’ve spent too much time distracted over too many things that really weren’t important.
Spot on, Kristy. After that stupid fight with my daughter, it’s what hit me hardest. I think if I do wrong by my kids, that would be my overwhelming regret too.
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Thanks for the link in, Amy. You have some greater writer links there every week - I was honoured to be among them this week.
Hey Col. Stumbled across your blog, and love it. Its just like having a conversation with you. As you might remember, I have some experience of how we sabotage ourselves if people get too close. What matters more, I think, isn’t who we’ve left behind, but how we’ve altered each-other’s lives when we were a part of them. Love to you, and the girls! Deb
Hey Deb. Great to hear from you, glad you found the blog! I’ll pass on your thoughts to the girls. They’re going well. Jess has just read Ulysses and she’s just starting Kafka and Beckett as part of her degree. I feel so dumb when I talk to her now. And Loz is a company director. Hope Blair’s going well. And you, too, Deb.