Skip to main content

Box of Regrets

 



Tomorrow is my 8th cancerversary. You'd think I'd be overwhelmed with joy today and extremely excited about reaching this important milestone and you'd be right. I am, truly, but I'm also overwhelmed with grief. I still long for the me I lost, the me who was self-confident and self-assured, the one who existed long before cancer came knocking at my door. And though I feel conflicted today, I beat myself up for feeling this way. 

Why is it so easy to look back on life and be reminded of all the nasty, horrible, awful things that occurred or remember the bad choices we made? Why isn't it as easy to be filled with gratitude? It seems it takes more effort to count my blessings than to count my regrets. 

Today, my youngest daughter sent me a link to this song, Box of Regrets by Mega. I'd never heard it before but wasn't surprised at how it pricked my soul. My youngest knows me well, almost too well. And while she doesn't know all the terrible, awful I've experienced in my life, I have shared a few of the more painful things with her. She and I are so alike that it scares me at times. 

We're both empaths. It's a difficult gift to bear, but one God hands out to a select few. I'm thankful He gifted us with empathy, to love others so deeply is one of the ways we can be most like Christ. I don't think I'd want any other gift if I'd had the right to choose. 

8 years. I never thought I'd make it this far post diagnosis. I assumed I'd die before the 5-year mark, especially since I didn't go the conventional treatment route, but God had other plans. In His sovereignty, He's granted me favor. He's allowed me to continue living so I'd better dump out my box of regrets and shift gears. It's time I learn to maintain an attitude of gratitude, as cliche as it may sound. 

So today, I'm making a commitment to myself. I will make a conscious effort to focus on my blessings more than on my regrets. 

The first verse of the song sums it up so well: For too long I've carried
all of my woes, scrutinized them and held them close. All the missteps and mistakes, I've let them linger taking up too much space. Indeed. 

But God...

He has taken my burden and set me free. 

I guess I just needed to be reminded of this today, so thank you, my sweet girl, for the song and for being you. I love you, Jamie. Always and forever, Mom


Box Of Regrets
By Mega


For too long I've carried
All of my woes
Scrutinized them
And held them close
All the missteps
And mistakes
I've let them linger
Taking up too much space

Until you took the weight and set me free
Oh, you came along, and you held the key

To my
Beautiful box of regrets
It's time to change
It's time to forget
For too long I've cried to
Looked at my life through
My beautiful box of regrets

It was painted with my pain
Held a mirror when I fell from grace
The strangest comfort familiar hurt
Useless treasure all I was ever worth

Until you took the weight and set me free
Oh, you came along, and you held the key

To my
Beautiful box of regrets
It's time to change
It's time to forget
For too long I've cried to
Looked at my life through
My beautiful box of regrets

Setting fire to the heartache
Now I'm burning, burning the past
Lift this weight from my shoulders
It's time to let go I can no longer hold this

Beautiful box of regrets
It's time to change
It's time to forget
For too long I've cried to
Looked at my life through
My beautiful box of regrets

Beautiful box of regrets
It's time to change
It's time to forget
For too long I've cried to
Looked at my life through
My beautiful box of regrets
Beautiful box of regrets

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Sometimes I just want to pull my hair out

Sometimes I just want to pull my hair out, especially when I read a friend's blog post and I just can't wrap my head around it. This morning, I was reading a post from a fellow breast cancer survivor. She said her cancer has returned and is growing in her spine. As soon as I read the words, I burst into tears. I just didn't understand! We'd been diagnosed with the same type of cancer in the same year. How could it be that her cancer had returned and mine had not? And what made it even more difficult to understand and accept was the fact that she'd chosen to go the traditional treatment route. I'd opted not to do that. She'd endured chemotherapy, radiation, and the anti-hormone therapy afterward. I'd refused chemo, had done 28 rounds of radiation, and had only taken the anti-hormone drugs for a couple of months. It just didn't compute and it certainly didn't seem fair. But that's what sucks about cancer. It doesn't follow the rules.
Post a Comment
Read more

Cancer the gift that keeps on giving - the high cost of cancer

There's a basket of bills sitting in the corner of my bedroom. I try not to look at it as I enter the room but I know it's there. Its contents spill out onto the floor whenever my husband stuffs another bill into the basket. Usually, when the mail comes, he gets it first so he can filter what I see and what I don't see. Since he's the only one working, he takes care of our financial responsibilities and while I'm thankful for that, I'm not ignorant about our mounting bills. Cancer is expensive. Even if you've reached maintenance phase, it's costly. There are always tests to be run, blood to be taken, doctors to see. It never ends. Just knowing this will be a continual process for the rest of my life frustrates me and the alternative, death, will be my only way out. It would be nice to know that cancer could be a once and done kind of thing but that's only wishful thinking. Everyone knows cancer is a long and very involved illness. I had no id
Post a Comment
Read more

Annual checkup yields good news!

Yesterday I went to the Cancer Treatment Centers of America for my annual check up. For those unfamiliar with the cancer treatment center, it's an integrative facility that provides services for the body, mind, and spirit. My day began in the survivorship department. While there, I met with the doctor and was asked about how I'd been feeling both physically and emotionally. We talked for about half an hour. The doctor and I had a few laughs and it was probably the most pleasant visit I've ever had. Instead of making me feel that she was the doctor and I was the patient, I felt like we were old friends just having a good chat. It was refreshing and I left her office feeling very optimistic. Next was the port lab where I have my blood drawn. It's always a challenge there because I always have to explain about my lymphedema and why it's necessary to have blood drawn from my hand instead of my arm. You'd think, after 4 years of being a patient there, they'
Post a Comment
Read more