The month of March is bookended for me by two significant dates: the anniversary of my mother’s passing on March 2 and my birthday on March 19.
March 2 reminds me how swiftly life can pass, even when it lasts 95 years as it did for my mother. It also reminds me how deeply we can miss someone after they are gone, a feeling that has remained with me ever since that day in 2022.
March 19, on the other hand, marks the beginning of my 63rd year. It is a reminder of how quickly the years roll forward and how much more precious they feel as the ones behind me now outnumber those ahead.
I want to pause on that image because I believe it offers a valuable perspective on life, especially as we grow older. Some of us carry the weight of past regrets so heavily that it becomes a burden, preventing us from fully experiencing the present. This is a cruel form of self-imposed suffering because, no matter how much we dwell on the past, we cannot change it. Yet, these thoughts can loop endlessly in our minds, pulling us away from the here and now.
But there is another way. While it is natural to reflect on the past and wish we had done some things differently, if we can quiet or minimize those thoughts, we create space for hope and optimism.
I think of my parents, who, upon retiring at 65, embarked on a remarkable new chapter of their lives. They moved to Kyiv, Ukraine, and began an adventure that took them around the world. They served in their communities, did work they loved, and lived some of the most fulfilling, joyful, and challenging years of their lives.
That is the model I want to aspire to. The difference between living a life of regret and living a life of hope is simple: regret paralyzes us, while hope propels us forward. Whenever we are tempted to dwell on our past mistakes, we should instead take action—something physical, something positive—to remind ourselves that the present is where life happens.
This, I believe, is the freedom God offers us. When He forgives our sins, they are cast as far from Him as the east is from the west. If God forgives us, then surely we, too, can forgive ourselves. And we should.
Every day can be a kind of birthday—a fresh start, a reminder that this day has never been lived before. It is an opportunity to grow into the best version of ourselves, the person God created us to be: loving, hopeful, optimistic, and kind.
I have many past regrets. Sometimes I wallow in them rather than accept God’s forgiveness and grace, and use the remaining days I have to move forward as He would have me do.
I love the way Suzanne’s writing so succinctly states what I need to remember and facilitate in my life! Thank you, Suzanne! Keep writing!