My Only Regret
|regret [rɪˈgrɛt]vb -grets, -gretting, -gretted (tr)
1. (may take a clause as object or an infinitive) to feel sorry, repentant, or upset about
2. to bemoan or grieve the death or loss of
1. a sense of repentance, guilt, or sorrow, as over some wrong done or an unfulfilled ambition
2. a sense of loss or grief
3. (plural) a polite expression of sadness, esp in a formal refusal of an invitation
[from Old French regrete, of Scandinavian origin; compare Old Norse grāta to weep]
Usage: Regretful and regretfully are sometimes wrongly used where regrettable and regrettably are meant:
he gave a regretful smile; he smiled regretfully; this is a regrettable (not regretful) mistake; regrettably (not regretfully),
I shall be unable to attend
I live in acceptance, or at least attempt to always be walking towards it. I don’t just believe that all the hurt and the miss takes of this life, caused largely by my own ignorance, indifference or fear, are an important piece of the beauty that is today, I actually have a strong growing visceral experience of this fact.
A lot of people have room in their hearts and minds for a great deal of regret and I was never one for missing out on what other people have. So I searched the banks of my past for something that I hadn’t done that would have been brilliant. I looked for a missed opportunity that had not been a huge blessing like the others.
There it was, shining like the billboard it centered around. There was the one missed opportunity that I will never live down.
It was in Tacoma Washington. For some reason, that I don’t remember clearly I was spending a lot of time on one particular freeway off ramp. Over looking this spot was a McDonalds billboard. I passed it regularly and knew it well.
It had a giant picture of an egg still in it’s shell. From this egg floated thought bubbles up to the eggs big thought. That thought was a picture of an egg McMuffin. The billboard read “EVERY EGGS DREAM”.
There was something, or rather many things, terribly wrong with this adds assertion that every egg dreamt of being manipulated into a nasty breakfast sandwich. I believe eggs have much bigger and more beautiful dreams. The kind of dreams that make an embryo quake into the next possibility. Dreams like mountains dream to hold up the sky, dreams like little turtles dream as they push their new bodies towards the sea.
One day, looking up at this misrepresented egg, it came to me. A big thought, an idea, a plan. It would have been the best billboard liberation I have yet seen. All I needed was a jumpsuit that made me look like I was supposed to be climbing a billboard. I needed bright red paint and a 3 foot tall printed poster of Patrick Swayze’s face.
Simple, elegant, PERFECTO!
The new billboard, had I drank a little less and lived the dream a little more, would have featured an egg dreaming of Patrick Swayze and read, “EVERY EGGS DREAM……IS TO BE FERTILIZED BY THE SWAYZE”
Now that Patrick is gone and the billboard long since taken down, I think of this missed opportunity and feel regret.