Regret

I hate it when I get this angry. I hate it when I get upset and it shows. To be upset is okay. To wear your feelings on your sleeve is not.

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I ran over a frog. I saw it hop, hop, hopping. If I looked closely, I could probably have seen it smile as it bounced on the cement in the cool evening. Instead I just saw it hop, hop, hopping. Just when I realized what it was, I felt it under my tires. If I listened closely, I could probably have heard it scream as it died on the cement in the cold of the evening.

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“Does the pain ever go away?” she asked, her blue eyes piercing into my soul, begging me to answer in a most satisfactory way.

I hesitated a moment. ‘Does it?’ I ask myself. And then it hit me again:

She won’t be there at my wedding…she can’t tell me it will be okay when things fall apart…she can’t give me her approval…she can’t hug me, kiss me…she can’t laugh at my silly jokes…she can’t teach me how to make her signature meals…she won’t ever see my children, her grandchildren…I won’t ever see her just because I want to…

I look at this woman in front of me, this woman who had many more years to enjoy than I did. I see the pain in her eyes, as I’m sure she can see the struggle in mine, no matter how much I try to hide it. And then I know.

“No,” I say, defeated by the words. “No, it never goes away.”

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I ran over a frog last night. I killed it. Somewhere in the lush, moist earth where the green grass is growing ever taller and ever thicker, there is a young frog. I hope she understands I did not mean to do it. I hope she remembers all the good times. I hope she can forgive me for her loss. I hope she can forgive her mother.

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