My Greatest Mistake

Sarah N. came into town early on Friday to help me shop and prepare for the weekend's holiday party. Having only spent an hour shopping (which is amazing considering what all we had to get) and then running over to get a pizza for dinner, we decided to watch a movie and relax for the rest of the evening. Our feature presentation... Family Man. She had never seen it and obviously me being a fan, considering the fact that I own it, we dove in. However, somewhere around the middle, we both passed out.

Unfortunately due to the hectic schedule of the weekend's events, we were unable to finish it. However, she did pose a question to me that was quiet insightful, and again, uncharacteristic. She asked if there was any mistakes or choices that I've made in my past that I would change or do differently.

After sitting there for a few minutes and staring at my ceiling, I determined that there weren't any. There are very few mistakes that I have made in my life that I truly regret. None of which I believe proved detrimental. Although some would have made some situations more pleasant for the time being, the outcome would have been the same. For instance, the last few days of my last relationship, I was a bit harsh and moody. I will admit it. Although a change in my attitude would have made things less stressful, it would not have changed the outcome, for that I am certain.

My only real regret in life was one conversation...

It was during my finals in high school my sophomore year and I was writing a paper and was miserably sick. While sitting at the computer and becoming blind from staring at my composition for hours on end, the phone rang. Glad to have a distraction for a second, I answered it. On the other line was my sister, Tara. She and I chatted for a minute, she asked me how I was. Like she had opened a flood gate, I just poured on her all my worries and complained of my symptoms. I never once asked how she was or what she was up to. I didn't ask her how school was going (she was in law school), I simply just complained. She sweetly said that she hoped I felt better and not to worry, that it would all work out. She then asked to speak to our mother and I passed the phone along.

She died two days later.

That was the last night that I ever spoke to my sister. Not a day goes by that I wish I could have told her goodbye, or how much I loved her. I just complained, and she, being the caring and sweet older sibling, just sat there and took it. I have felt like a jerk bitch ever since that time. It was last time that I ever spoke to her, and I didn't have anything nice to say. Although, I am sure that she knew that I loved her, I wish so desperately that I had told her that day.