A Popcorn and Cranberry String of...

I could barely feel my finger tips in my black fleece gloves.

The black fleece hat kept inching off my head and was getting lost in the hood of my sweatshirt which barely moved with my body because it was clinging to the mint green fleece under it. The white tee shirt was twisting under the green fleece and all of it had separated from my jeans.

My bare lower back was itching from the pink striped wool blanket between me and the ground. The blanket on top of me was doing little more than annoy rather than warm. I shoved my hands in between my legs hoping there was warmth to spare for my extremities.

Despite all of this, I gazed up at the black night sky sprinkled full of white stars.

It was cold, yes. Yet it was a beautiful sight… and my two giggling friends were making it all the better. What can I say? When a person just needs to breathe some fresh air, she counts herself lucky to have friends willing to do it with her even on a frosty night.

We were all taking turns asking the questions. When I wasn’t staring at the heavens, I was focusing on the ice flakes which had formed on our blankets and any other exposed clothing.

“Is there anything you regret in your life that if you could go back and do it again, you would change?”

I laughed at the question. I still laugh at the question. I never know what I’m going to hear with something like this. Mostly in this day and age, a day where we’re taught to take little responsibility, an age where we’re told we don’t owe anything to anyone, in this day and age of moral decay, I frequently hear people comment on having no regrets. They’d do it all the same.

This has fascinated me. I understand the concept of thinking you’re on a good path now, of thinking there really is no going back anyway so why really think about changing any of it, of thinking you are a good person in a good place and to change anything about the journey may change those two facts.

The truth is I have a string of regrets. I have a series of events and behaviors I would undo or even summon the bravery to do.

I met a new friend or rather became more acquainted with a new friend who inspires me. A person who is fundamentally good to the core. A person who encourages, uplifts, and fortifies me in our every dealing. A person I can’t seem to get enough of because goodness in this form rarely, if ever, comes your way.

Every encounter leaves me wanting more and not of this person’s company but of myself.

I am reminded of my many mistakes. I see how this other has come across my same temptations and prevailed. I have many instances I bemoan.

I am thankfully aware of some of my own successes as I’m glad I don’t have to report wrong doing on my part. Not that I owe or would give any sort of accounting before this individual but because being in this individual’s presence makes me acutely aware of my being and I immediately find myself reporting to me.

I regret not being more, not giving more, not helping more. But regrets are fruitless and that’s the truth. Here’s to a holiday season which too is acting upon me as this new friend. To a season where most of us give more, help more, and generally are more.

And here’s to the friend as well.