So many things I wish I’d said . . . so many hugs I wish I’d shared . . . so many feelings I wish I’d expressed. They say that with age, comes wisdom. Too little too late? I hope not.
Like so many others my age, I came from a background where hugs weren’t often given and words of affection weren’t verbalized. I thank God that I got myself into therapy in time to learn how to express those feelings to friends and loved ones. It wasn’t anyone’s fault and I don’t blame anyone. My family had been a wounded one in so many ways, just as many families have been.
The real tragedy of wounded families is that all of the wounds are passed down from generation to generation unless some family member somewhere along the way makes the decision to break that chain of emotional pain. Only we can make the decision to break that chain by taking that big step of asking for professional help.
My own road of having enlisted professional help was a long and bumpy road, but I’m so grateful to God that I persevered instead of giving up and going back to my old ways. Yes, my old ways of doing everything available to me to try to numb that emotional pain. I have had so many friends who chose to remain on their roads to destruction and who are still suffering as a result of having made wrong choices. Still, I love them and I experience great sadness for them. In most cases, their lives have become forever damaged if not completely robbed from them in one tragic way or another.
Having reached my late sixties now, I look back and thank God that I’m not burdened by a heart filled with regret for never having reached out my hand to others, or for never having been able to find the courage to say “I love you.” God has been truly good to me in His infinite wisdom and mercy.