Member-only story
regrets
Afterbirth and Afterdeath
oh, yeah . . . and the Afterlife, too
One of my favorite songs is ‘After the Ball,’ written in 1891 by Charles Harris. It’s a sad tune about a man who never married, because he thought the only woman he ever loved was pledged to someone else. It was a misunderstanding: the ‘other man’ was the woman’s brother. But they never got over their mutual heartbreak, and now the woman has died. [If you’re not a Medium member, click HERE to keep reading for free.]
Yikes! Why do I like something so ‘down?’ Because it captures perfectly what regret feels like, even though I’ve never had one quite that heavy. [The above image is based on my memories of the 1957 British movie where I first heard the song, though the story line doesn’t match the lyrics at all.]
Life is full of regret, from beginning to end. When we first emerge from our mommy’s womb, we instantly regret doing so. It was more comfortable in there. But the stuff that made it comfortable is now gone, thrown in the trash. It’s called afterbirth, and it isn’t pleasant stuff. The midwife, or nurse, or whoever, can’t wait to get rid of it. Which is kind of sad, because it once was ‘home.’
I think something very similar must happen at the other end, too, though I can’t be sure because I haven’t been there yet. I think…
