*A rare, signed, higher resolution and non-watermarked version of this image is available for download at: https://creary.net/digitalart/@jaichai/jaichai-original-digital-art-looking-back-i-wish
["You're never too young to feel love...or regret." - Dr. E.A.P. , my late father and first mentor in life.]
When I was a young man, the first woman I ever truly loved lost her battle with Cancer.
I wasn't there beside her in the ICU when she went into respiratory arrest, cardiac arrest and finally brain death.
To make matters worse, our last conversation turned into a nasty argument over self-euthanasia.
It wasn't even "real communication", but a "dual monologue" where two people were talking (or shouting) and no one was listening.
I lost both my patience and my temper while she was desperately begging me to listen and try to "understand".
As I walked away from her hospital bed and out of the ICU - my cowardly way of ending the conversation, I said, "Understand what? You're giving up and you want my blessing to do it? F*ck that! I love you, but that'll never happen!"
I so wish I'd never said that and I could do some kind of magical "do over" of that part of my life.
She died early the next morning at 2:47 am.
At that time, I was already drunk and commiserating with some simpathetic, but broke loser friends that were drinking on my tab.
When I learned about her death, I experienced first-hand how the mind can play some pretty f*cked-up tricks on people; even on the most stoic among us - people like me.
For the next couple months after the funeral, a few times a day, I swear that for just a split second or two, I would see her in my peripheral vision.
Many times while walking down the street, I would reflexively stop, turn, look back and imagine catching glimpses of her walking away around a corner or momentarily sittiing inside a coffee shop.
Then poof, she vanishes again!
For decades, I never told anyone except my father about it. He was a retired shrink for the U.S. Veterans Administration.
He listened patiently, then said, "Son, it's a process, an important part of dealing with tragic, personal loss. Just know that it's perfectly normal and trying to block it out leads to worse things down the line. It also means that you must've really loved her. You know what? I really miss her too. Talk to me whenever, ok?"
That was the first of many times that I had to deal with the death of a loved one or another fellow soldier.
For every victim or fallen comrade, it (dying) was different.
For me, the aftermath was always the same - horribly heartbreaking.
But to honor the loved ones that I hope to see again someday, I continually strive to be the kindest version of myself.
[OK. Nuff' said about that...]
Thanks for reading my ramblings.
Enjoy the Original Art.
And may you and yours be well and loving life today.
In Lak'ech, JaiChai.
(This is a corrected, updated version of https://steemit.com/@jaichai/posts, JaiChai - 13 Jul 2022. Simultaneous multi-site submissions posted. All rights reserved.)