The Road Through Regret

My girl, Shell over at Things I Can't Say has this great link up on Wednesdays.  So, here's my entry. Be gentle as I pour my heart out...

I'm overwhelmed with information and unsure as to what to do next as I try to work as a writer/blogger.  Where do I turn to? Where do I go? Who do I reach out to? Who is going to charge? Who will give me the best advice? Questions, questions, questions.  I peruse freelance writing jobs online unsure of which ones are legitimate.  I send in my information into the abyss that is the internet and emails never to hear back from the person on the other side.

This is my first break since maternity leave, if you can call this a break.  I didn't take any time off during mami's illness though looking back, I totally could have.  But I was worried about the office a little.  Though mami was my priority, I had this idea that the office mattered somehow.  Now I know different and add that to my list of regrets.

Today Shell mentions playing the what if game.  I know that game all too well.  And although my grief counselor advised me against it and gave me some pretty reasonable explanations when I did my writing prompt on guilt, it still comes back to me.  What if I would've taken her to MD Anderson as soon as she'd been diagnosed?  What if I would've demanded that they finish the radiation when she was hospitalized with jaundice instead of trusting the egotistical doctor who is probably writing about this case since I don't think she's had too much experience with this type of cancer?  What if I would've demanded that they cut her open the first time she had gallbladder pain instead of waiting until the swelling went down in order to do laprascopic surgery?  What if I would've coaxed her into telling me what was wrong and how she was feeling so I could've eased her pain a lot sooner than I did?  I could go on and on and on.

Part of this "break" is not only building my dreams but also grieving.  I went back to work the day after the funeral.  My grief comes in fits and spurts wrapped around the frog princess's sleeping schedule though she is more perceptive than anyone would give her credit for.  Everything happens for a reason, right? I got laid off a week after moving in with my dad.  See, his grief manifested in a heart attack.  Now all I want to do is take care of him.  In the same fierce way that I wish to take care of my frog princess.  Being in her house, her space, sometimes takes my breath away.  Dad remodeled the house a little to accommodate us but, I have the master bedroom.  And, although the bed is now on a different wall and the walls are a different color and there's a door where once there was none, this is still the space in which she took her last breath.  It is beautiful, joyful, peaceful and painful all at once.

The invincible woman that could make something out of nothing.  The woman with no high school education and very little English that not only won the hearts of everyone she met (in any language) but managed to raise us in a fairly comfortable life along side a not always easy to deal with dad.  And every day that I hit new challenges or good news, I still reach for the phone even though she's no longer on the other side.

I love Oprah (in case you didn't know).  One of the most profound quotes that she uses all the time is this: "Forgiveness is giving up the hope that things could have been different."  Today, in the middle of a cloudy day, I'm heavy with what if's knowing that ultimately, I have to forgive myself even though this isn't my fault.  I try so hard to take care of everyone and that's not always possible.

I am confident that I did the best that I could even in the midst of all the questions that come up on cloudy days like this one.  When I am trying desperately to figure out how to make my dreams come true and I miss sitting down and having a cup of coffee with my mami who could always make it all better.

Thank you for sticking by til the end of this post.  What do you have in your heart that needs to be "poured" out?