Regret

Everyone has moments of regret.   Some regret is temporary. Some regret is deep and abiding.  There were those times in childhood, high school, maybe college, at a job. While the memory may burn your ears, those times are inconsequential.  You may wish the car crash undone, and if it was minor it soon will be. I often wish dinner unburned, but mere wishing does little to clear the smoke.

Few people create moments of regret so tangible that the consequences are unfathomable. Few they may be, but they certainly are.  When I read of South Africa's famed Pistorius, my heart numbed.  Maybe it was shock.  Among other thoughts, I have been consumed by the despair he must face. It doesn't matter whether he loved her or not, whether he meant to or not, what the papers print or don't. Mr. Pistorius will be burdened with the knowledge of his actions and loss all his life.  That weight is only slightly imaginable for me, but I cannot go too far in my imagination before the sheer dread is terrifying.  It isn't even my load to carry and I am smashed by it.  I am sorry for the burden he will forever carry. What a terrible burden to wish one could wish away the impossible.