A Life Without Regrets

by Marci Bolden

  Even so, Judith was never going to be able to offer Carol the support she needed. Carol knew that.

  “You need to be in counseling,” Judith said, for likely the hundredth time in the last few weeks.

  “I’m aware of that,” Carol said, finally admitting that she understood how far she’d fallen.

  Again, the silence on the line lingered.

  “What are you waiting for?” Judith asked.

  Today. Carol had been waiting for today. She’d been waiting for the moment when she slammed face first into her problems and could no longer deny how all-consuming her grief had become.

  “If you don’t want to come here,” Ellen offered, “go stay with Mary. You know she’d love to have you.”

  Tobias’s mother would indeed love to have Carol there with her. Mary had offered a dozen times as well. The spare bedroom, the one Carol and Tobias used to sleep in, was stacked with boxes from the house Carol had recently sold. Mary had offered to unpack the belongings, but Carol wanted to do that herself. Mary used that as a reason for Carol to come for an extended stay.

  “Come home, baby,” Mary would tell her every time they spoke. “Come sort out this mess I made in your room.”

  Your room. It was no longer Tobias’s room. Now the space was Carol’s room. Just Carol’s.

  Carol swallowed, trying to ward off the tears that had been close to spilling over. “I’ll be headed to Mary’s soon,” she said once she felt strong enough to speak.

  “How soon?” Judith asked.

  “I’m spending Thanksgiving with Tobias’s family. I’ll get there a few days early and stay a week or so after. Then, I’ll be headed to your place for Christmas.” Carol raked her hand through her hair before resting her forehead against her palm. “We’ve talked about this. Remember?”

  Judith sighed. Carol knew the sound came from Judith because dramatic sighs were her mother’s signature response. She didn’t have to say she thought Carol was being difficult. Her exaggerated exhalation said so.

  “We remember,” Ellen said. “But we were hoping…”

  “You shouldn’t be on the road alone,” Judith stated, getting to the point her aunt had been about to tiptoe around. “We’re worried about you, and we need you to come back.”

  “I’m okay, Mom.”

  “No, Carol,” her mom countered. “You’re not. You’re grieving your husband—”

  Carol rolled her eyes as she finished for her mother. “In an RV, all alone. I’m aware of that.”

  Ellen spoke softly. “We really are worried.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you,” Carol said. “I really don’t, but—”

  It was Judith’s turn to finish Carol’s statement. “You’re working through it.”

  Carol laughed lightly. “Yeah. I am. I love you both. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “She’s blowing us off,” Judith muttered. “Do you hear that? She’s blowing us off.”

  “Good night, Carol,” Ellen said, despite Judith’s frustrated tone. “We love you.”

  “Carol,” Judith started. By the way her voice cut off abruptly, Carol guessed Ellen was giving her sister a silent warning. Another sigh, and then Judith said, “I love you. Good night.”

  “Good night.” Carol ended the call and dropped her phone carelessly on the table.

  She knew they were worried about her. She understood their concerns. Doing something about what worried them was the hard part. That was the step she hadn’t been able to take, the line she hadn’t been able to cross. Carol didn’t want to spend her life in mourning, and she understood she couldn’t find her way out on her own. She knew those things, and she knew what she had to do about them. But the fear of facing the hurt from the past had hold of her, preventing her from doing what she had to. This… This was Tobias’s area of expertise.

  “Stop being such a chickenshit,” she muttered to herself.

  Grabbing her laptop, she lifted the top and pressed the power button. As the computer booted up, she opened the notebook she’d used to make extensive notes on every single online therapist her insurance would cover.

  Research was one of her favorite ways to procrastinate.

  Thinking of Harold and Mei leaning over a map, Carol closed her eyes and pointed at the page where she’d listed several online therapists that fit her criteria. No more delays. No more excuses.

  Moving her finger, she read the name she’d selected. Susan Baxter. Before she could talk herself out of it, Carol entered the website she’d listed with Dr. Baxter’s name and clicked on the option to register as a new client.

  Two

  Carol had been an early riser for years. She and Tobias used to jog every morning before getting ready for work. She wasn’t nearly as committed to that routine as she used to be, but she still liked to get up and watch the sun rise as she sipped coffee and ate breakfast. Seeing the sun come up was a good reminder that she was living a new day with new possibilities. A new chance to take the steps she needed to keep going.

  One step at a time. That’s what Mary told Carol whenever life without Tobias overwhelmed her. She liked her first step of the day to be watching the sun.

  She usually sat alone, but when she emerged from her RV, Harold was there to greet her. He smiled brilliantly and toasted her with his mug.

  “Howdy, neighbor,” he said, as he had since she’d parked her RV next to his.

  “Morning.”

  Sitting across from him at the shared picnic table, Carol watched Harold lift an iced brownie to his mouth. “Is that your breakfast?” she asked.

  “It is,” he stated, as if eating dessert for breakfast wasn’t the least bit strange. “I eat one every morning. If I don’t survive the day, at least I got to have one last brownie. Would you like one?” He pushed a second plastic-wrapped treat toward her.

  “No, but thank you for offering.” She showed him her bowl. “I have oatmeal.”

  “I could think of a million other things I’d rather eat than oatmeal,” he said before taking another bite.

  Grinning at the man sitting across from her, Carol could honestly say befriending him, no matter how briefly, was one of the highlights of the past year. She wasn’t naive enough to think elderly men couldn’t be as dangerous as anyone else. Traveling alone made her a target for anyone with malicious intent. But Harold had been more fatherly than threatening from the moment he’d taken over hooking up her RV without being asked.

  One thing Carol had learned when she and Tobias started traveling a few years ago was that fellow wanderers instantly felt comfortable with their temporary neighbors. For the day or so that their paths crossed, strangers became like old friends, sharing stories and watching out for one another. Now that she was traveling alone, those short-lived bonds alternated between lifesavers and paranoia-inducing.

  However, with Harold, she was lucky to have met him. He fell into the lifesaver category. She had no doubt he was a good man. An honest man. As they were eating dinner the night before, she’d thanked him more than once for his intervention. Even so, she didn’t think he’d ever fully understand how much she appreciated him stopping her before she could climb into a raft. That would have been disastrous.

  They sat quietly, eating and drinking coffee as the sky lightened. When she scraped the spoon against the side of the bowl and scooped up the last bite of her oatmeal, he grinned at her.

  “How’s that taste?” he asked.

  “I like oatmeal,” she informed him.

  “Nobody likes oatmeal,” he countered with a sly grin and a wink.

  She laughed but didn’t argue. While oatmeal might not have been her first choice, she’d eaten the dish long enough that she didn’t mind the taste or texture. Tobias had been on the college football team when they’d met, and his healthy habits beat out her bad ones. She’d stopped eating junk food decades ago. She wasn’t going to backtrack now, especially not with a prepackaged, processed brownie.

  “What brought you to
Arizona?” Harold asked. “Besides the rafting trip.”

  “That was it, really,” she said. “I wanted to be in the south during winter. I don’t like the cold much.”

  Harold popped the last of his brownie into his mouth and brushed his hands together. “You really sold everything, huh?”

  Carol nodded. “I really did.”

  “Seller’s remorse?”

  “A little bit,” she admitted. “But I was sinking into a depression living in that house alone. There was too much space. Too many memories holding me back.”

  “But having a home would be nice. Someplace to hang the hat. Someplace to spend the holidays.”

  Carol set her empty bowl aside. “I’ll head to my mother-in-law’s house soon. She’s in Missouri. I’ll be there through Thanksgiving, and then I’m headed to Florida to see my mom.”

  Carol couldn’t believe she’d said that last part without cringing. Three months ago, she and her mother only spoke out of obligation, but they’d taken big strides in mending their relationship in recent months. Now, her mother insisted Carol check in every time she arrived and left a new campground. And she usually texted Carol at least once a day. That meant quite a lot, considering Judith Stewart loathed texting.

  Like Harold, Judith couldn’t quite understand why her daughter chose to sell almost everything she’d owned to live full-time in an RV. Sometimes, Carol secretly wondered why, too, but she couldn’t bring herself to fully admit that she’d started to doubt the decisions she’d made in the last six months. In all honesty, Carol was starting to question every decision she’d made over the past year since she’d been widowed.

  She missed her house. Up until she’d sold it, she could pretend that Tobias wasn’t gone. She could, somewhere in the back of her mind, tell herself he was on a trip or working late. She could act like her life hadn’t been upended. She could sit at the little table in his garden, sipping her wine and reliving the many times she’d watched him tend his flowers.

  The downside of that was the heart-stopping recollection she’d have when reality set in and she’d remember Tobias was dead. Not on a trip. Not working late. He was gone, and he’d never come home. He’d never tend to his flowers again.

  “Your mind is wandering.” Harold tilted his head. Concern returned to his eyes.

  Carol grinned as the warmth of embarrassment filled her cheeks. “Sorry. I do that. I’ve had a way of getting lost in my thoughts for as long as I remember.”

  “May I ask where you went?”

  Crossing her arms, Carol leaned onto the picnic table. “Oh, I was trying to figure out how I got here.”

  “Here being Arizona or this point in your life?”

  “This point in my life. How long was Mei gone before you figured out how to be yourself without her?”

  Harold shook his head slightly. “I don’t know that I am myself yet, to be honest. We spent over fifty years together.”

  “Tobias and I were married almost twenty years. Went by so quickly.”

  “And the next twenty years will go by quickly as well.” Harold pointed a crooked finger her in direction. “Remember that. You don’t want to look back and regret the life you lived. Or didn’t live.”

  Carol frowned. “I’ve been thinking about that. Too much, probably.” The sky above them was changing colors as the sun crested the horizon. Darkness faded into light as if even the universe was trying to make her understand the importance of moving on. “He’s only been gone thirteen months. We went through so much together. It’s okay if I’m not ready to face things without him. Isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Harold said. “What’s not okay is hanging on to the past like your memories can save you. They can’t. You’ll get frozen in time.”

  “I made an appointment with a therapist last night. I think it’s time.” The words were out her mouth before she even considered she shouldn’t say them. She barely knew this man but had confessed something incredibly intimate. She held her breath, waiting for his response.

  “That’s good,” he said. “Having someone to talk to will help.”

  Releasing the air in her lungs, she realized how scared she’d been that he was going to judge her. What a foolish response. With the hell she’d been through, seeking help was nothing to be ashamed of.

  “Even the strongest of us need someone sometimes,” Harold said, as if he sensed her relief.

  “You sound like my aunt. She’s tried to convince me I’m stronger than I think for most of my life.”

  “Why don’t you believe her?”

  Taking in the sky above them, Carol shrugged. “I’ve spent most of my life hiding from the things that scare me.”

  “We’re all scared, kiddo,” Harold told her. “Every single one of us is scared of something. But you can’t let fear stop you.”

  “I let fear stop me yesterday.”

  Harold sipped his coffee. “Still beating yourself up about that?”

  “A little.”

  “Whatever caused you to be terrified of the water wouldn’t go away if you went white-water rafting,” Harold pointed out. “Nor would putting yourself through that help you make peace with losing your husband.”

  “Ouch.” Carol winced dramatically, causing him to grin.

  “I’d apologize, but I wouldn’t mean it. You needed to hear that.”

  “Yeah. I guess I did.”

  “There’s something else you need to hear.”

  She focused on the sincerity in his dark eyes. She imagined if she spent enough time with Harold, he could help her solve all her problems. She doubted he had that kind to waste on her, though. The list of problems they’d have to solve was long.

  “Healing isn’t about overcoming your loss, Carol,” he said gently. “Healing is about living despite your loss. The loss becomes easier to bear because you are living, but it never goes away.”

  After letting his words sink in, she knew they were true. Her lip trembled as she thought about how she’d never stopped missing her daughter but had somehow managed to build a life with Tobias. That pain would find her far too often, but she’d learned to carry on. She would again, given time.

  Nodding slightly, Carol blinked before her tears could fall. “I’m trying,” she whispered.

  “I know,” he said gently. “It’s hard, but you’ll find your way.”

  Dragging her fingers under her eyes, Carol sniffed. “You don’t happen to have a map, do you?”

  “No, but I do have this.” He reached into the pocket of his faded denim shirt and pulled out a thin, oval-shaped, pink rock. “This was Mei’s. I want you to have it.”

  Carol stared for several seconds, only taking the gift from him when he pushed the stone even closer. She laughed lightly when she flipped the rose quartz over and found No Regrets etched on the other side.

  “She had worry stones for everything,” Harold explained. “I have an entire box full. Sometimes, when I’m having a hard day, I close my eyes and choose one. Every time, I feel like I’m getting a message from her. Last night, when I was trying to think of how to help you, I remembered how she asked to see this one the day before she passed. She pressed it between our palms and made me promise I wouldn’t stop living once she was gone. No regrets. That’s a pretty good motto, don’t you think?”

  The image of Harold and Mei holding the stone between their hands tugged at Carol’s heart. If she had that kind of memory with Tobias, she wouldn’t want to part with the reminder. Perhaps Harold didn’t understand how precious that moment had been because he’d been able to say goodbye to his love, but Carol knew. Tobias had been ripped from her without warning. She hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to him. This was more than just a stone. This was a connection to his wife that he shouldn’t part with.

  “Harold, this is very kind, but—”

  “No buts,” he said.

  “This is precious to you.”

  “You need this more than I do,” Harold insisted. “Mei would say so too. Take i
t.”

  Running her thumb over the letters, feeling the ridges against her skin, Carol smiled. The coolness of the quartz was soothing in a way she couldn’t explain. “Thank you.”

  “You’ve had a lot of bad days since losing Tobias, but you will have good ones again. Sooner than you realize. Don’t forget that.”

  “I won’t.” Carol wrapped her fingers around the rock and squeezed. “I’m really glad that I met you.”

  “Me too.” He put his hand over hers, and she opened her fingers so the stone was pressed between their palms, much like she imagined he and Mei had done. “Learning to live again is hard, but you will find your way. I believe that.”

  “Thank you, Harold.”

  Pulling his hand back, he said lightly, as if they hadn’t just shared an incredibly intimate moment, “I was planning a hike this morning. Would you like to join me?”

  Carol wriggled her toes in her slippers. “Give me a minute to put on real shoes.” After carrying her bowl inside, she set the dirty dish in the sink and tucked Mei’s worry stone into her pocket so she could pull on her tennis shoes. She grabbed a bottle of water on her way out and met Harold back outside.

  “Rose quartz,” he said without prompting or explanation as they started toward the nearby trails, “is believed to heal the heart chakra. Whenever you start feeling sad, you grab hold of that worry stone and let it help you through.”

  Carol grinned as she realized she was unconsciously squeezing the stone in her pocket. “I’ll be holding it a lot, won’t I?”

  “For a while, yes. But you’ll find you need that kind of help less and less over time.”

  Carol listened as Harold shared another story of Mei, how she’d started her collection of worry stones and learned how each one had a special purpose. Harold grinned wistfully as he told Carol how his wife had been a natural healer, a kind spirit, and always gave more than she received.