Weekly photo challenge: Regret

How many times did our mouths touch silver?

I have not written a poem about the day we left Marcus. I don’t know if I ever will.

The day of the sale was beautiful. Late September. Warm. Bright blue.

My father sat on the porch while his life was sold.

I wish I had bought the house.

I know it was sold to a good woman who blessed the day. Her name said it all. Joy.

But it closed a door on a past.

And I regret it. Always will.

I will move on. Retire to another home. Without a past.

And so it goes.


29 thoughts on “Weekly photo challenge: Regret

  1. Pingback: Weekly Photo Challenge: Regret « Thirdhandart's Weblog

  2. Pingback: Weekly Photo Challenge: Regret | Chronicles of Illusions

  3. Pingback: Weekly Photo Challenge: REGRET… | Mirth and Motivation

  4. Pingback: Weekly Photo Challenge: Regret | The UnOfficial Version

  5. So layered with rich memories. I think the day I still regret is when I drove out of the lane at the farm as the sun was rising and then west to California. There’s always a glass half-full, half empty feeling about it. I suspect many people don’t have such feelings. But that’s what makes some people poets or photographers. Enjoy the ride.


  6. Pingback: Weekly Photo Challenge: Regret | this man's journey

  7. Pingback: Weekly Photo Challenge: Regret | this man's journey

  8. How lovely a memoir piece … it brought back memories of when my daughter, her daughters and I cleaned out my mothers house…choices, leaving memories, but the memories are there, in my writing about them.
    Your choice of the silverware was so perfect. I wish I’d thought of that on the day we were there. The story is long, but I was allowed to take one piece of memory…and I chose the “silent butler”… a metal contraption to clear out the ashes from the ashtrays safely and discretely so the ashtrays never over flowed when entertaining.
    Siggi in Downeast Maine


    • I think my grandfather had a silent butler. Did you push a button that forced the bottom of the ashtray to open and the ashes to fall down into the base of the stand? I remember he had inlaid small tiles all around the small table that it was attached to the ashtray. We’d push the button and trap our fingers in the sliding trays. Almost forget about that. I’d never seen anything like it anywhere else. Thanks for sharing your story. j.


  9. Beautiful entry! It’s comforting to touch the past once in awhile. It gives me strength in my present identity and courage to face the future.


  10. Pingback: Weekly Photo Challenge: Regret « Mike Hardisty Photography

  11. Pingback: Sorry!: Weekly Photo Challenge (Regret) « aNTibaKTeRiYeL

  12. Pingback: If Only I Could Turn Back Time | Stories of My Wandering Feet (& Mind)

  13. Julie,

    Christy Carlson showed me your poem and I just had to respond. You described that day perfectly. I know your dad was closing a chapter in his life that he loved, but your family is close and he is such a sweet guy.
    From the first day I moved in this house it has felt like home to me. Must be the love they left behind. I have been blessed.


  14. I identify with your feelings! I regret not having bought my childhood home by the river that was eventually turned into a boatyard! Even my husband got teary eyed when we visited a few years later 😦


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s