Ramblin' Rose

Encounters with myself … others … Life !

The regrets of love not expressed

Is there any sorrow greater than the sorrow of not having expressed your love?

The sadness that grips you when you find it is “too late.”

Too late to do the things you wanted to do …                                                                            Too late to visit now … she is not there any more.                                                                   Too late to allot time for her … You kept it too late. 

All the things that were so important to you, you had to do them “today”                             …. whilst visiting Aunty Marie could wait till tomorrow.

You can now do them for the rest of your life … no need to stop what you are doing.           …your Aunt does not need you any more.

The bag of groceries you were going to buy her …                                                             The day you were going to spend with her                                                                                           The love you were going to express …                                                                                                    … You kept it too late.

You did not even stop to think                                                                                                … a postcard will help if you cannot visit today.                                                                      …. A telephone call will be better … you can talk to her NOW.                                            TODAY ….BEFORE it is too late.

She took time and care to write to you … Did you reciprocate ..?                                You wanted to … with all your heart you want to …                                                                 but you kept it too late.    

Can you learn even now, Learn before it is too late.                                                         Get your priorities straight.                                                                                               The house, the garden, the work, the chores                                                                 All these can wait … There can always be another time for this.                                                Delays won’t cause regrets.

What causes the biggest pain and hurt                                                                      Because there will not be another time for this – EVER –                                                      Is the regret, the  pain and the sadness                                                                    of love not expressed. 

With pain in your heart you whisper and hope she can hear you.                            Aunty Marie I’m sorry.  I love you so much.  Thank you for writing to me.  Thank you for caring. Please forgive me  – my selfishness – and please know that I love you.

Your loving god daughter                                                                                       Rosanne                                                                                                                          14th July, 1999.

(True story – shared as a reminder to express your love, and do the things that really matter – before it is too late.)

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6 comments on “The regrets of love not expressed

  1. Prakash Hegade
    April 25, 2017

    It suddenly got deep and thoughtful when I reached the end. You have a message to all here!

    Like

    • Rambling Rose
      April 27, 2017

      Still trying to learn to express love and caring whilst I can … without postponing. Like the song says ..”If tomorrow never comes …..”
      Best

      Liked by 1 person

  2. R L Cadillac
    April 1, 2017

    Oh My, this is an excellent reminder, Rose.

    Like

  3. Dorah A. K.
    February 27, 2017

    I am looking at a small list of friends I need to call or write to — for weeks! Your story is a beautiful and touching reminder. Thanks.

    Like

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This entry was posted on February 27, 2017 by in Memories and tagged , , , , , .

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