I worked as a paid caregiver for two years. I ran errands, shopped, prepared meals, organized a few closets and pantries, did some housecleaning and provided companionship for some elderly clients trying to stave off checking themselves in to a care facility. All showed me something of the fragility of life, especially as our aging bodies begin to act in ways that our will never intended. 93 year-old Mrs. H, who I visited twice-weekly for nearly a year, showed me the nature of the kinds of unresolved regrets that surface at life’s end. When we can no longer hide from them in our busy-busy lives, when our key relationships get stripped from us one by one either through sickness or longevity, buried regrets make their way to the surface.
Then what? [Read more]
