Some insight I've recently run across and translated into Annie-life language.
The truth is, I have lived 50 years alongside people and things and places that I love.
I can still see my mother's face, laugh with my sisters and brother,
hear my kids chatter with each other,
and kiss and hug my grandchildren.
I can still enjoy a sunny winter day,
turn my pillow to the cool side and hope for one more last good dream.
It is too late to rewrite my life, too late to do anything but live it out.
Even if I got to live it all again, from the beginning,
I would still live it imperfectly, raggedly, shamelessly, in my own skin.
It is a hard and bitter thing, a life, but so loathsome to leave and so stupid to regret.
(stolen from Rick Bragg and reworded)
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