If I could do it all over again…
If I hear that phrase one more time, I’ll vomit all over my shoes.
I love my Oma. She’s done nothing but love me unconditionally.
She was a child during WWII in Germany. She had a tough childhood. She was an “oops” child…born ater her siblings were in their teenage years. One or two of her brothers were killed on the Russian front, fighting for Germany. Her father was Catholic in Nazi Germany…his refusal to deny his faith cost him promotions.
My Oma and I have a special relationship. She confides in me more than she does the other grandchildren…I’m the oldest grandchild, and, at times, more than she does her own children.
But, spending concentrated time with her over my past two visits, I foudn myself getting more and more frustrated. Her favorite phrase is, “If I could do it over again, I would’ve…” She regrets so many things. It’s tiring. She spends so much time reliving what she would’ve changed that she doesn’t take the time to be thankful for the blessings she has.
I’ve learned from her that I need to live a life of gratitude, of thanksgiving. My life is less than ideal, but I have a wonderful family, some great friends. I’ve traveled more than most people I know. I have a relationship with the living, vibrant King of kings and Lord of lords.
Though I left my visit with my family stressed, I am thankful because I see life through a new lens.