Mom died a month ago. Reflecting on her life, I'm thankful she lived without regrets. She was hard to embarrass and realized that the pain of regret was usually worse the pain of embarrassment. I learned this the hard way - she was continually throwing me into life's deep end, encouraging me to do hard things, things that built my courage.

Researching the history of our family, I ran across this sad story. One of my great uncles was by his mother’s bedside as she was dying. She had something to share with him before she passed. Here is how describes it in a letter to his children:

Mama developed pneumonia. She got weaker. 

Most of us will go through life with a cross to bear and the memory of my dying mother's words is mine. I have since tried to rationalize it, make excuses for it, but to no avail. Just an exercise in futility. What she said was true, and now I am touched and sorry, but it is too late. 

I was at her bedside kneeling with my left arm under her head when she faintly uttered, "Billy, you were mean to me." And then she died!

I don't think anyone else was close enough to hear those last words, but I heard them correctly, and I guess I had been mean to her at times. I have been remorseful and often wished I could in some way erase the memory of those last words of my mother, but have to live with it. 

My dear proud mother, she died at fifty-three a broken-hearted woman, broken in both body and spirit. There were many highs and many lows throughout her short life. 

Reverend Jones presided at the funeral. From Marston to the Mounds Cemetery there was the longest procession I have ever seen, some said it was over two miles long of autos and wagons when Mama was laid to rest in 1934. 

I have had a guilty conscience and been ashamed to tell anyone. Her words are still loud and clear, even deafening at times, and they won't go away.

Ugh. What a burden to carry! How my great uncle wished he had loved his mom as she deserved to be loved.

His regret is like that of so many people. He knew the right thing to do, but lacked the courage to apologize and live differently. And he took that regret to his grave.

How about you? Have you hurt others or been mean to them? Do you perhaps owe them an apology? If you were on your death bed, would you regret not having done so?

To be human is to hurt those you love. Throughout my life I've hurt others and been hurt. But along the way, I learned that repair is possible. It just requires that we humble ourselves.

I leave you with this encouragement: Learn from my great uncle's example - find the courage you need and have the conversation you've been waiting to have! Regrets are a terrible thing to take to your grave. Why not make the decision that will set you free today?