My Bucket List

I started a “bucket list” a few days ago.  And while I was typing, it occurred to me that nothing on the list was of any consequence to anyone.  Nothing remarkable.  Nothing memorable.  Just random thoughts, and random places:

1. Go to the beach
2. Go to the mountains
3. Go to the east coast
4. Go to Washington, D.C.
5. Do something that is remarkable, for which I will be remembered fondly.

Seems rather forgettable, doesn’t it?

It’s a painful reminder that for the past 15 years, I have been unremarkable and very forgettable.

The pain I have inflicted on others, my family in particular, I cannot take back, and I cannot say, “I am truly sorry” enough times to make up for it.

Now that I am retired, maybe in some small way, somehow I can redeem myself before my time is up.  I wish I could undo those terrible, horrible things I did so long ago that got me to where I am today. Oh, how I wish I could.

And now, I feel as though I am racing against the clock on my final lap, yet somehow, fast as I run, much as I try, it’s just not enough.  It will never be enough. 

I won’t be remembered as a great, or even a good father.

I won’t be remembered as a good or even fair husband.

I won’t be remembered as a true or even adequate friend.

No, I’ll be remembered and defined as “that guy that broke the law in November, 2000, and ruined everyone’s life ever since that time.  An evil, distraught, disgusting, retched monster.”

So many regrets.  I wish it was over with yesterday.

I don’t know that I would be any better a second time around either.