Looking back on life, we reflect on what could have been and perhaps what should have been

One of the things you learn as you get older is that human life is short. That might seem to be a truism, but because something is a truism doesn’t mean that it isn’t true, if you know what I mean.

In the days when I was a parish minister, visiting people in their homes was my favourite part of the job. I marvelled at people’s resilience, and often humour, under pressure, and their unassuming but hard-won wisdom.

As folk reflected on their lives, I heard funny stories that made me laugh, and sad stories that made me want to weep for them and with them.

In the early stages of my ministry, I was surprised when elderly people told me that as one gets older, time goes faster. Back then, this seemed to me to be counterintuitive. Surely as you got older and slower, time would drag more?

Now that I am pushing on a bit myself, present experience tells me that what they said was true. Time now seems to whirl by. A year is nothing. Yet the clock ticks on, at exactly the same rate as it did when I was younger.

Visiting people in hospital was also a revelation. Mind you, it could also be hazardous for clergy. Elderly people lying in bed minus their teeth and specs can look pretty much alike. They would be astounded when their minister or priest asked them bewildering questions, only to realise that the questions should have been addressed to the person without teeth and specs in the next bed.

Failure to recognise a longserving member of the congregation is not a clever move for a cleric – although, in truth, it often results in a good deal of hilarity.

Unsurprisingly, elderly people – at home or in hospital – often reflect on the passage of their lives.

Bronnie Ware, an Australian nurse who spent several years working in palliative care, caring for patients in the last 12 weeks of their lives, took note of the most common regrets. She put her observations into a book called The Top Five Regrets of the Dying.

The first was this: “I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.”

Bonnie Ware writes: “This was the most common regret of all. When people realise that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honoured even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.”

“It strikes me that the biggest quest in human life is that of finding meaning in what we do”

Next one up: “I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.”

This is certainly a common observation. I was interested in Bonnie Ware’s comments: “This came from every male patient that I nursed. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.”

Number three on Bronnie’s list: “I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.”

“Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others,” says Bronnie.

“As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming.”

Next one: “I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.”

I’ve heard this more from men than from women; this is probably down to the fact that, on the whole, women are better at keeping in touch with family and friends than men. They value connectedness more than men usually do. It’s usually the womenfolk who keep up to speed with birthdays, Christmas cards and letters, and so on.

The last regret on Bronnie’s list: “I wish that I had let myself be happier.”

“This is a surprisingly common one,” says Bronnie.

“Many did not realise until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. Fear of change had them pretending to others that they were content, when, deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have fun.”

I can back up most of these observations. I would make a further argument, though. It strikes me that the biggest quest in human life is that of finding meaning in what we do. This is true whether we’re employed or unemployed: many people find fulfilment in voluntary work.

Good health is obviously a bonus, but lots of people find personal fulfilment even in times of poor health or disability. A sense of vocation in life – whether understood as from God or from life itself – can often transcend all manner of difficulties.

The wisdom of the dying is important. It can save us from reinventing the wheel of our own lives. It can also remind us of the preciousness of the gift of time itself.

Yet, what is also important to me is the Christian theme of forgiveness. None of us is perfect. We all come short of the ideal. What we may need to hear for our healing is a word of eternal grace.

Ron Ferguson